A Gavinner's Fury
by xStormyx
Summary: Sick and tired of falling victim to Klavier's flirtatiousness, Ema decides to take revenge. But, when she takes it too far, a furious Klavier offers her a shocking ultimatum: face him in court and lose everything - or marry him.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Contrary to most story beginnings, it was not a fine sunny day where our story starts. In fact, it was raining heavily at the exact moment that Ema Skye was scorned. The scientifically driven detective had no idea where this day would take her: no equation in the world could have prepared her for what was coming her way.

Ema was grumbling to herself, leaning against the desk, as she made one final note on the files she needed to hand in to the chief. It was at that precise moment that a certain prosecutor happened to walk by and caught sight of her round derrière.

His lips lifted at the corners into a cheeky smile that signalled a particularly mischievous thought had crossed his mind — one that would definitely leave the detective in a foul mood. It was no surprise, therefore (to anyone who was watching him) when he made around the desks so that he had to pass hers…

…and his hand connected with her bottom in a gentle spank.

Ema yelped, rounding on the spot and stumbling, her eyes searching for the culprit. She found him in the form of Klavier Gavin who was walking backwards, laughing, and blowing her an extravagant kiss.

"GAVIN!"

"Mein Fräulein Detective," he said, placing his hands on his chest, right over his heart. "You have made my evening!"

"YOU STUPID GLIMMEROUS FOP!" she yelled, paralysed with anger and embarrassment at the way everyone was looking at her.

Klavier was halfway out of the door now and he paused to throw her a grin. "You desired it, ja?"

"I'M GOING TO ARREST YOU FOR SEXUAL—"

"Now now, Fräulein," he interrupted with a fiendish look, "let us reserve this manner of talk for the privacy of our bedroom, ja?"

And then he was gone, leaving a tomato-red Ema fuming among a room full of snickers and stifled laughter. She glared murderously at the exit he'd left through and she made up her mind to humiliate him the way he had her. She would get him back, not just for this but for every single time he'd invaded her space and ridiculed her. Vengeance would be hers!

Unfortunately for Ema, her little plan for revenge would backfire on her in the worst – and best – way possible.


	2. Blizzards and Tea

Blizzards and Tea

Winter was particularly nasty this year. Ema was cursing the snow over and over for having rendered her car ineffective. The engine had turned into one giant ice cube and everywhere she looked, the roads were covered with the white stuff. _Great_, she thought. _How am I supposed to get to work now?_ It didn't help that she lived a good 45 minutes drive away from the offices and her home was nowhere near any public transport.

"Ugh."

The prospect of not being able to irritate the forensics today only served to darken her already black mood. Ema pulled the coat tighter around herself as she looked left and right, wondering if she could get a lift off anyone but the faces of her annoyed neighbours told her it wasn't happening. So, with a sigh, she dug around in her pockets for her phone, knowing she'd have to let her boss know she'd be late for work — if she could get in at all.

"_Guten morgen, Herr Chief's office."_

Ema hung up. What the hell was the fop doing? Didn't he have enough work of his own without barging into other people's offices and start taking their calls? With a huff, Ema marched toward her house, her mind on the infuriating twit.

Klavier had become slightly unhinged since his brother's trial and the disbanding of the Gavinners, of this she was certain. Sure, he was an idiot and an egomaniac but he'd taken to act even more ridiculously than before. She knew someone had to do something to snap him out of his immaturity (she still hadn't forgotten about his inappropriate spanking) and Ema WOULD do something. She was just waiting for the right time.

As she slammed the front door shut behind her, Ema's cell began to ring and she sighed irritably.

"Skye speaking," she answered, tugging her scarf off from around her neck.

"Ah, so it was you Fräulein."

She hung up on him again, this time with a growl. What the hell was he doing ringing her at this time of morning? But before she could answer her own question, the phone rang again and she debated for several moments before flipping it open and raising it to her ear.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"A question I might ask you, Fräulein," he replied cheerfully.

"I want to talk to the Chief," she said, annoyed. "Where the hell is he?"

"He has stepped out for a moment," Klavier said and she could hear him moving about. "He will return shortly. Would you like me to take a message?"

"What, been demoted from rocking prosecutor to PA, have you?" Ema said sarcastically.

Klavier chuckled. "I am waiting for him in the office. I thought I would offer you this and save you the need to ring again."

Ema hesitated for a moment before realising little harm could come from telling Klavier to pass on the message. "Tell him I might be late. My car's not working because of the snow and I have to find alternative means to get to work."

"I am sorry to hear that, Fräulein." There was a suspicious pause. "I am already missing that lovely pos—"

She didn't let him finish. For the third time that morning, Ema hung up on Klavier.

.'.

Snow was falling again, thick and heavy, almost an hour and a half later. Ema stood at her window, frustrated beyond belief, drinking hot chocolate and longing for the lab, evidence to work her science on and for her precious Snackoos. If only she lived closer to work, she could have walked. As it was, if she tried walking to work from here she would probably turn into an ice sculpture or get lost.

She turned away from the window and pulled the curtain close, not wanting to see the snow anymore than she had to. Slumping into the sofa, she pouted at the TV although not really seeing the images that flickered across the screen. What was she going to do today? She had left all of her science kits in the locker at work and there was nothing at home that she could mess about with. Her eye fell on the stacks of DVDs and she shrugged, admitting defeat. Setting her mug aside, Ema moved over to see what movies she had lying around – a lot of them were borrowed from Phoenix or left behind by Lana when she'd moved out of state for a job offer, after which Ema had evacuated her apartment for this much roomier home.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Ema looked around at her house and felt a sense of peace. It had been part of her life since she was born; her parents had paid off the mortgage before their deaths and had left it to both Lana and herself. After Lana's trial, there had been no chance for her to stay here as she had left to study abroad and, upon her return, told Lana to take up residence in it. Her sister had asked her to move in several times but Ema always declined because it was too far away. After Lana's decision to move, Ema had been unable to bear the thought of strangers living in her home again — when she'd been in Europe, the home had been rented out as a source of income and at that time she'd had no control over it but now, she was a grown woman with a job and she _could _do something. So, four months ago, she'd moved in — for good. She smiled a little wistfully at the memories that ran through her mind. Even if she had to miss a day of work because of the distance, Ema couldn't regret her decision.

"Look on the bright side," she said to herself, flicking through her movies. "At least you can have a lazy day… with no fop to distract you!"

A jubilant smile flowered on her face almost instantly. She hadn't even thought of it that way! A full day of no glimmerousness, no foppish behaviour… it was heaven! Ema suddenly felt lighter and the snow outside didn't seem that bad anymore. Maybe she'd even like some of these movies that Lana had left behind…

Just then, as if the Fates had decided a happy Ema Skye was no good, the doorbell rang.

Ema frowned, turning around to look at the door and cursed whatever idiotic neighbour had coming a-knocking now. Rising to her feet, she padded over to the door, not relishing opening the door. The room had just warmed and she didn't want to let the cold in so she considered just ignoring the visitor — and of course, she couldn't.

She turned the keys in the lock and the heavy wind flung the door open. Ema stumbled in surprise but a hand grabbed her arm and steadied her. Shivering, she peered at her visitor with a dawning look of horror.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Will you not invite me in, Fräulein? It is abysmally cold out here."

She glared at the rock star as he stood on her porch, grinning, wrapped in a black trench coat and not at all looking cold, except for the reddened cheeks and the hands stuffed in his pockets. Ema took a closer look and snorted at his vanity — he was obviously trying hard not to shiver.

"Go away," Ema snapped grabbing the door to close it but he held a hand out, stopping her.

"I am here to pick you up for work, Detective," he said with a smile.

Ema's eyebrows shot up in surprise before coming together in a frown as she scowled deeply. Of course, had it been anyone else, she would have been profoundly grateful; it meant she could actually do what she loved. She would see her science kits again and the lab would be extra warm today…

She cast another glance at the foppish obscenity standing at her door, her one chance at having a normal day… but it came with a price: 45 minutes — probably more in this weather — in a car with him. The thought was so horrifying to her that she decided science wasn't worth the torture. She could make it one day without…

"Fraulein Detektiv," Klavier said, rubbing the back of his hand against his nose. "I realise that you may not wish to come to work but there is a reason why I have driven all the way out here to fetch you. A lot of the staff are similarly inconvenienced and we have few forensics and detectives available. As you are worth at least two of each, I believe it is important of you to join us at work."

Ema gaped at him speechlessly. Had he just…?

"Hmph," she huffed, slightly mollified.

Then she did something she would regret, perhaps not for the rest of her days but definitely for the months to come: she grabbed him by the coat to pull him inside. Klavier's laugh was promptly cut off as her aggression and inability to handle his frame resulted in a disaster — he stumbled and found his forehead introduced to the frame of the door. Ema's scowl gave way to horror as Klavier crumpled to the floor at her feet.

"…stupid, clumsy fop."

.'.

The detective was grumbling to herself when Klavier finally came to his senses. Bleary eyes blinked quickly as he tried to make sense of his surroundings and sat up on the sofa she had somehow managed to drag him to. A warm fire blazed in the hearth beside him so that his body was warmer than it had been all morning and he rubbed his arms in an attempt to dissipate the intense heat seeping in through his clothes.

"Verdammt!" he hissed as a wave of dizziness hit him when he tried to stand up.

"Sit down!" Ema snapped, suddenly by his side and pushing him back to down to the sofa. "And drink this."

Klavier blinked at her again, taking the concoction she was thrusting in between his warm fingers. She was scowling at him as if extremely displeased to have to deal with him – which she clearly was. Klavier recalled what had happened and he touched his forehead, grimacing when it twinged.

"Yeah, you hurt yourself," Ema said with a sniff before reaching over to the pile of logs next to the hearth and dropping a particularly thick one in the fire. "Had no idea you were such a peach."

"How long was I out?" Klavier asked.

Ema scowled again. "Almost an hour." She threw him a dirty look as if wondering how he'd had the audacity to fall unconscious in her home. "I tried to call a doctor but they couldn't get one out here."

"I am sure there is no need for that," Klavier said, rubbing the sensitive spot on his forehead. "I feel fine now."

"Well drink that anyway," Ema said, nodding towards the cup. "I don't want you suing me for GBH or something."

Klavier laughed, leaning back against the sofa. "I would not sue, I would prosecute. In any case, it was an accident." Ema didn't answer and he looked down at the drink she'd handed him before his attention was brought to himself. His coat and jacket were missing and he lifted mischievous eyes to the detective. "Did you enjoy taking my—"

"Drink your tea," she cut across him loudly.

"I do not like tea," he said.

Ema turned to glare at him. _"I. Don't. Care."_

"Why would you like me to drink this if I do not like it?"

She closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose, and prayed for the strength to deal with the many hours of irritation that lay ahead of her. With exaggerated patience, Ema looked into his twinkling eyes. "It is lemon tea and it will prevent or cure any headache you might fall victim to. As it is, I don't think I can handle a whining rock star for the next God-knows-how-many hours."

"Fräulein, I can simply take some aspirin."

"Well, I don't have any."

"We will buy some on the way back to work," he reasoned, setting the cup down and standing up. "We have already lost enough time as it is."

"Yeah," Ema said, nodding complacently. "Okay. You bring the car around and I'll get ready."

Klavier beamed at her, pleased by her agreeable behaviour. He looked around to find his belongings and headed for the coat rack from which they hung. Stepping aside, he turned around to see Ema still standing near the hearth, her arms crossed and a sceptical expression on her face.

"Come, Fräulein Detective," he chided as he threw on his coat and turned the keys in the lock. "We will be late. I will heat up the car for you," he added with a charming smile but it earned nothing but a snort from her. He was unfazed however, and the smile only widened as he turned the knob. "It is always a—"

His words were cut off as the force with which the door flew open surprised him and his eyes widened when he saw the snowstorm that had and was still devastating the street outside. Klavier stood there, frozen, for several moments before he calmly shut the door and turned back to Ema who was wearing a _do-you-get-it-now-you-stupid-prat? _look.

"How long has this blizzard been…?"

"More than half an hour."

"And do you know when it will stop?"

"It's going to get worse apparently."

"Really," Klavier said, a smile growing on his face. "You mean to say that we are stuck here?"

Ema's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yes."

"I see." He pulled his coat off again, kicked off his boots and assembled them neatly near the rack before padding over to the sofa and falling into it with a drawn out moan. Ema was still standing in the same spot, in the same position and she was glaring at him.

"What's up with you?"

"I have a headache," he lied, holding his head.

"Drink the stupid tea then."

"I do not believe it will help. Perhaps a massage…?"

Ema's eyes snapped wide in surprise for a split second before narrowing in anger again and she unwound her arms, pointing insolently in his face. "Now you listen here, fop-face!" she said menacingly. "I'm already pissed off enough as it is and I don't need you making life more difficult. Any of your usual _shenanigans_ and I promise I'll haul your ass out to freeze."

Klavier smiled at her indulgently. "Of course, _mein_ sweetheart," he said. "May I ask a question?"

"What?"

"If every source of heat died in this lovely home of yours, could you bring yourself to strip naked and— ach!" He dodged the small log she threw his way. "Achtung! Was that an attempt to render me unconscious again?"

"Yes," Ema said fiercely, marching away. "At least it'll ensure your silence! Now shut up and don't talk to me!"

Klavier watched her run angrily up the stairs, entwining his fingers behind his head and smiling as he stretched out on the sofa. Somehow, he didn't mind that he was stuck in the detective's house for an unknown period of time. She had nowhere to run from his questions and his attempts to win her heart.

"This will be an interesting event."

No, he didn't mind the blizzard at all. It was a blessing in disguise… except even Klavier mistook the disguise for what it really was.


	3. Some Bad News

Slight warning for suggestive themes at the end and, er... Well, actually, it really depends on how dirty your mind is =P

* * *

Some Bad News

Klavier had napped, wandered around the kitchen and watched several hours of television but the snowstorm was raging on and Ema was nowhere to be seen. Usually when he was bored, he would entertain himself with music but he was deprived of that luxury too. The only comfort was that he was trapped with Ema Skye.

The detective had caught his attention the moment he'd seen her arrive for her first day at work. Passing her in the hallway outside the prosecutor's offices, he'd thrown her a generous smile, waiting for the usual scream of delight or flustered splutters that he got from his fans.

So when she walked past him without looking at him, Klavier was more than a little bemused — and annoyed.

He'd gratified himself with reassurances that she hadn't recognised him. Over the next few days, he'd watched her whenever she was around but to his growing ire, she had refused to acknowledge him besides throwing him dirty looks. It was when she walked into his office and threw some files clearly labelled for Gavin on his desk that it became obvious she knew exactly who he was. She just wasn't impressed.

Ever since that day, Klavier had tried several things to make himself feel better by healing the damage to his ego but all of his failed attempts to charm her only deepened the wound. And then, somewhere along the way, Klavier had found that this was more than just about his pride. It was when he realised that he was taking blow after blow just to be near her that his feelings became clear.

The turning point had been after Daryan's trial — she had come by his office to pick up the finished paperwork on the trial and he'd seen her hesitate at the doorway, a look of concern in her features. Klavier had been too tired to notice then but later, when her expression registered, he wondered; did she care about him?

And, inevitably, he'd been drawn to her in a whole different way.

It hadn't ended there though. Ema had surprised him again. In the aftermath of Kristoph's trial, he'd sat in the stands, staring down at the witness stand where his brother had stood. She had come out of nowhere, breezing through the silence and planting herself in the seat beside him. They had sat together for a long time, both of them staring at the box where both their siblings had once stood.

Everyone knew whose sister she was and the story of Gant's abuse of the force had lived through the years. And then, just as silently as she'd come, Ema got up and left, leaving him alone again but not lonely.

Ever since then, he had shadowed her. There was something about her that made him forget the heaviness inside and he felt better. And, of course, teasing her felt good. Klavier didn't know if he was in love with her — he was certainly attracted to her — but he knew that annoying her sure as hell put a smile on his face.

Klavier suddenly heard a loud thud and he looked up at the ceiling with a smile as he imagined Ema throwing a tantrum in her bedroom. He muted the sound on the TV and listened carefully to make sure nothing was wrong but all was silent. Not sure whether or not that was a good thing, Klavier got up and headed for the stairs, deciding that another barrage of insults he could deal with (enjoy them in fact) but he had to make sure she was okay.

So up the wooden stairs he padded, noting that her significantly smaller home felt more loving and comfortable than his. When he reached the landing, Klavier glanced at all the doors before him. With his sense of direction, he was able to deduce which room the sound had come from and he smiled, pushing it open.

"Stupid cat!"

Klavier's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked down as a slender, white-as-snow cat escaped past him and down the stairs.

"I had no idea you owned a cat, Fräulein Detective," he said, turning to see her jumping off the bed. She marched to the centre of the room where a stereo lay and she flicked at some of the switches, apparently looking to see if there was any damage to it. "Is it broken?"

Ema, obviously irritated, turned on him with a hazy frown. "Can you go downstairs and do something useful?"

Klavier smiled. "Natürlich, Detective," he said with an obliging tilt of the head. "What would you like me to do?"

Her answer came swift and cutting: "Die. Please."

"Achtung!" he laughed. "That is harsh, ja?"

Ema didn't answer; she picked up the stereo from the floor and put it on a table nearby before turning on Klavier again. His heart's tempo increased when she marched towards him, her face determined. He smiled down at her.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room."

His ringed fingers lifted his bangs, only to let them drop again as he eyed her abode and grinned cheekily.

"I like your room, Fräulein," he said, noting the simple white decor. "It feels pure somehow."

"Yeah well every minute you spend here makes it impure, Gavin."

Hmmm. He was used to the pangs her rejection caused but this time it was a little sharper. He looked at her quietly, taking in her blazing appearance and felt a niggling insecurity. Was he fooling himself, following after her?

Klavier didn't bother going down that psychological road. If she didn't want him around then he would stay out of her way. So, he looked her in the eye and took a deliberate step backwards — over the threshold — and out of her room. He watched her eyes widen a little when he turned on the spot silently and made towards the stairs.

"Wh-Where are you going?" her voice floated after him.

Klavier couldn't help the dullness of his tone when he stopped to answer her. "To do something useful."

And before she could digest his meaning and say anything, Klavier was gone.

.'.

Ema felt bad. Very bad.

Her fingers twisted around themselves as she threw nervous glances at the kitchen doorway, which led to the room Klavier was sitting in.

She knew she shouldn't have said it. Telling him to go die had been exceedingly harsh, even for her. Waking up had not always been her best suit but being unceremoniously awoken by a damn animal was asking for trouble. And Klavier had just happened to be there for it.

For a moment shed worried he'd try to leave in this blizzard and she'd come down after him but upon seeing that he had simply sat down on her sofa and turned up the volume of the TV, her fears had abated.

The guilt still remained though — she knew she was wrong for snapping at him the way she had and to tell him to go _die_? She shook her head, disgusted by her own behaviour. No, she definitely had to make it up to him.

Which was why she was currently dishing out meatballs and spaghetti in two plates, making sure to put more in his. Then she placed them both in a tray along with two glasses of water (having ran out of anything else) before taking a deep breath and walking to the living room.

"Fraulein," he said politely, moving to make space for her on the sofa. Ema placed the tray on the small table nearby. "Is this for me?"

She took a deep breath and turned to him ready to put into practice the speech she'd pondered over…

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out, all her preparation going out of the window. "I shouldn't have said what I did! It was vile and horrible and I didn't even mean it! I'm just so—"

Klavier was smiling and shaking his head. "It is forgotten."

"R-Really?" Ema stammered in surprise. "You're not mad?"

"Not at all," he replied. "Especially not after seeing that plate of delicious food."

"Um…"

"That IS for me, is it not?"

Ema scrutinized his face for a split second but he did nothing except smile at her widely. Convinced that he truly wasn't mad at her, Ema picked up his plate and handed it to him.

"Danke," he said, flashing her a grin. "I have been starving."

Ema looked at him in surprise, her hand still suspended in mid-air after he'd accepted the food. "You should have got something to eat."

Klavier didn't look at her when he answered, choosing to twirl the spaghetti around the fork. "I did not… think it prudent," he said hesitantly.

She understood instantly and her face flushed when the full extent of her inhospitable behaviour hit her. What would Lana say if she knew how horrible she'd been to a guest in this house?

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, staring down at her own plate. "I was really rude." A pause. "I don't know how long this blizzard's going to last." She glanced at Klavier and found him watching her. "I don't want you to starve or anything. You're welcome to anything in this house."

Klavier beamed at her. "Thank you Fräulein! That is very kind of you."

She waved nonchalantly before leaning back into the sofa, her feet resting on the table.

"What are you watching?" she asked, stabbing a meatball.

"Dust de dews," replied Klavier through a mouthful of food. Ema looked at him in disgust. "Sorry," he apologised, seeing her expression. "I was watching the news. They say the blizzard will rage for a few days."

"D-Days?" Ema spluttered.

Klavier's mouth twitched. "Ja. They have warned against any attempts to go out."

"B-But…!"

"Do not worry, Fräulein," Klavier said, forking a meatball into his mouth. "I will take good care of you."

Ema's eyes narrowed on him. "Klavier," she growled warningly.

"And if we _did_ lose electricity," Klavier continued casually in between mouthfuls. "Women have told me I have a hot body—" he looked at her suggestively "—I would keep you nice and warm."

Ema didn't hesitate. The plate in her hand went flying into his lap and (infuriatingly) Klavier barely reacted except to make sure his food didn't fall. Ema glared at him murderously as he slowly set his plate aside, picked up the one she'd thrown and looked at the spaghetti splattered across and between his thighs.

"Hmm." He looked at the apex of his legs interestedly then at her with a raised eyebrow. "It is fortunate this was not too hot or else I might have lost my manhood."

She was about to scathingly question his so-called manhood but then he pointed to the mess in his lap. Inevitably, Ema's eyes were drawn to it and she felt herself flush. "What the hell are you doing?" she shouted, embarrassed and annoyed. "Why are you showing me your crotch? Go clean it up!"

Klavier's perfect lips turned at the corner. "I was not showing you my, ah, _crotch_," he said in amusement. "I merely wish to cle—"

"Stupid insufferable fop! Why do you—no don't stand up!" she snapped when he moved forward. "You're going to get it all over the carpet!"

Klavier leaned back in the sofa and lifted his hands up as he stared at the mess in his lap, not the least bit bothered. With a growl, Ema marched to the kitchen to get a cloth and when she stalked up to him, throwing it in his face, he flashed her a million-dollar smile.

"Fräulein," he said in a smooth voice, pointing at his lap again. "Are you sure you do not wish to eat this?"

Ema blinked. Klavier watched with hilarity as her face heated up again, her body began to shake and her eyes glinted. His lips lifted in a cheeky grin when Ema finally exploded, screaming for all she was worth:

"STUPID EFFING GLIMMEROUS FOP!"


	4. A Monstrous Encounter

A Monstrous Encounter

Klavier was having fun – since Ema had ruined his pants, he'd been forced to remove them and while she was searching for a spare pair (hoping to find something in Lana's bedroom who'd had a live-in boyfriend), he was having a shower. He had to wash out the spaghetti he'd got in his hair when she'd screamed and catapulted his plate of food at his head.

Klavier laughed. Ema truly was something else. Any other woman would have swooned at the idea of getting into his pants but Ema had shouted and shouted until he was sure his ears would bleed. And the look on her face when he'd started to unfasten his belt…

"_Mein Gott!" _he chuckled, shaking his head and stepping out of the shower. "To think she was ready to end a legend!"

Klavier snatched up the towel from the rack and tousled his hair with it before wrapping it around his waist. He stepped out of the large bathroom into the hallway and almost shivered – though it was not cold inside the house, the air was not entirely warm and it hit him unpleasantly. He looked down the hallway, his blue eyes skimming past the array of doors and he tried to listen out for the sound of an annoyed Fräulein. When he got nothing, the rock star sighed and walked to the bedroom he knew was hers.

"Fräulein?" he called, knocking on the door. There was no response and he opened it wider, peering inside. Ema was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was about to try another room though, he spotted an array of frames on a table next to her bed and, recognising Ema in one of them, was drawn towards it. Klavier smiled as he lifted the picture of a younger Ema Skye, a hat on her head and those bubblegum glasses of hers atop it. He should have known they'd been life-long companions…

Klavier placed it back on the table but another caught his eye – in this, Ema's usual garb was nowhere to be seen. She was dressed in a black, off-the-shoulder dress and her hair spilled around her in luscious brown tresses. She was smiling widely, not a scowl nor frown in sight. He was temporarily stunned by how beautiful she looked but his attention was diverted to the young man next to Ema, who had his arm around her waist. He looked to be about the same age as her and Klavier could find nothing to physically criticise. Jealousy flared inside of him and he was at once annoyed and surprised by it. _Who was this man and what relationship did he have with Ema?_

"What the hell are you doing?"

Ema was standing in the doorway with her trademark scowl. Klavier set the frame down on the table and gestured at it casually. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," Ema growled through gritted teeth. She marched around the bed and glared up at him. "And you shouldn't be in my bedroom you nosy FOP!"

Before Klavier could respond, Ema had grabbed his arm and was dragging him out of the room but then something happened that would stay with them for the rest of their lives (courtesy of Klavier) – she yanked particularly hard on his arm in an attempt to truly convey her anger at his intrusion and the prosecutor stumbled. The jerking motion of his legs strained the towel around his waist and before he knew it, it had fallen away, leaving him absolutely naked.

Klavier's eyes widened and he tried to stop but an unknowing Ema continued to pull him, unaware of what had happened. Her rambling about fops and rock stars drowned out his protests until he yanked on her arm particularly hard with a loud _"Fräulein Detective!" _

"WHAT!" Ema snapped, rounding on him. Her fierce expression instantly melted into wide-eyed horror as her gaze travelled down his body and when it reached his pelvis, her eyes popped.

Anything Klavier might have said to calm the situation dried up in his throat when he saw her frozen frame and though he was embarrassed at the way he stood there, his body was starting to heat up from something else – something that he hadn't really thought about until now.

Klavier swallowed hard and glanced down at himself and though feeling severely self-conscious, he knew he had nothing to be afraid of. His body was as perfect as could be and he had proudly displayed his glorious form to many women without the slightest hint of shyness but, for some reason, this unexpected, out-of-control reveal to Ema had left him uncomfortable and hot.

_She_ was more than uncomfortable, however. Klavier was growing concerned with the way her eyes were rooted to that most intimate part of him. A fleeting worry crossed his mind: was she still breathing? He thought to approach her and ask her if she was okay but then the detective stirred and made it obvious she was still very much alive.

"COVER YOURSELF UP, YOU MONSTER!" she exploded, half-scaring Klavier. Her eyes scrunched up and her hands were balled up into tight fists as she stomped fiercely in some manner of traumatised dance. He stared, half-bewildered, half-amused, as she turned away from him and ran down the stairs.

His body still tight from her scrutiny, Klavier calmly walked back to where his towel had slipped, picked it up and wrapped it around himself. Then, with great effort, he rearranged his face into a sombre expression and descended the stairs after her. Something told him the poor detective needed some consolation from her disturbing encounter with the 'monster'.

Klavier couldn't help the smile that rose on his lips, nor the way his ego expanded that extra notch. Suddenly, all those months of suffering her abuse became worth it. After all, he thought as he reached the bottom of the stairs and paused, her comment had been more of a compliment than an insult.


	5. Reasons To Say Thanks

Reasons To Say Thanks

There was nothing about the day that was normal. The wind howled, the blizzard raged on and Ema Skye was stuck with Klavier Gavin.

Indefinitely.

In her home.

But that wasn't all. Oh no, Ema had _Seen_!

_Seen_ way too much.

Why the hell did these things happen to her? He was unstoppable enough without giving him more ammunition to tease her with.

"Damn him," she muttered, slamming the fridge shut with more force than necessary. "Of all the women in the world, why did it have to b—"

She froze midsentence, her hand balled into a painful fist; she'd heard a creek that came only from the third-to-last step on the staircase.

"Fräulein?"

_Oh SHIT!_

Klavier had come down after her and, given the very short time between her…. _Seeing_ and fleeing, she guessed he hadn't seen the clothes she'd hung out for him in the bathroom, let alone donned them…

Ema panicked. She didn't think she could handle seeing him in just a towel again, knowing what she did about what lay underneath…

"_THE CLOTHES ARE IN THE BATHROOM!"_ she shouted and she might have been embarrassed by the way her voice came out, half-strangled, if it weren't for the terror she felt — she could not, would not, see him like THAT again.

"Are you okay?" he called from the living room, apparently having noticed her tone.

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "Put some clothes on!"

There was a pause in which Ema thought he'd gone but then he spoke again, completely surprising her.

"I am sorry, Fräulein."

Ema's eyes widened; that had to be his first ever apology to her and, annoyingly enough, it was for something he couldn't exactly have prevented. She was saved from answering him, however, when she heard another creek that signalled he was going back upstairs. For a split moment she felt guilt hit her again (why did she keep shouting at him when he hadn't done anything to her?) but then she remembered what had just happened and embarrassment conquered said guilt.

She knew it was her fault. She'd brought the entire thing on herself by being aggressive with him. Why didn't she learn? It was the same thing that had got her stuck in this house with him in the first place.

But, she hadn't been thinking: when she saw Klavier looking at the picture of Colin, she'd felt… _humiliated_. It made no sense of course. Klavier didn't know who Colin was and what had happened — it had made no sense to be scared that he would discover the truth just by staring at a stupid picture.

Still, she'd freaked as though he'd read her diary and plunged into her innermost secrets. It was stupid and illogical and Ema Skye hated being illogical. Her life revolved around science, the most logical subject there was (math didn't count because she hated that). To let herself be ruled by such irrational fears went against her very nature.

Then again, nothing about Colin — and her time with him — had been rational or logical. He'd had an uncanny ability to turn her into an idiot who didn't know what she was doing or saying. No doubt it was that which had eventually pushed him away. She had no idea how people fell in love and kept their heads on but clearly she lacked that ability. Ergo (as the great Edgeworth would have concluded), love was _not_ for her.

"Surprisingly fitting," a voice said from behind, making her jump.

Ema looked at Klavier where he stood in the archway between the living room and the kitchen; the jeans and shirt fit him perfectly and she silently thanked Lana's boyfriend for having such a convenient built and leaving some of his conveniently fitting clothes behind.

"Um, yeah." Ema stood there awkwardly for a moment and then turned away, looking for something to do. "Er— you must still be hungry."

_Because I made you wear your food instead of letting you __**eat it**__ like a good hostess. _

"Would you consider it an insult if I said ja?" Klavier asked and she almost flushed at the amusement in his tone.

"No."

"Then I am hungry," he said, moving into the kitchen. She looked at him as he came to a stop next to her, leaning against the counter.

Ema bit her lip. "Um… Is pasta okay?"

Klavier flashed her a dazzling smile. "Ja. And I shall help you prepare it."

Ema felt alarm shoot through her at the prospect of spending time with him. "That's really not necessary. I'll—"

"Come, Fräulein," he said with twinkling eyes. "After what we have just shared, I am certain you can bear to cook with me."

Outraged, Ema opened her mouth, all ready to blast him for his foppishness; it was precisely because she had _Seen_ that she didn't want to stay in the same room as him. However she was thankful that, for once, her brain processed the idiocy of that comment before it reached her tongue. Klavier was being surprisingly gentlemanly about the whole ordeal but that didn't mean he wouldn't tease her if she gave him the right ammunition.

So, instead, Ema nodded and pointed at the cabinet next to his head. "There should be some pasta in there."

Klavier pulled it open and peered inside while Ema retrieved the necessary ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Fräulein?"

She looked at him and frowned when she saw that he was holding an unlabelled box of pasta and another of rice. Ema liked to use her containers because once a pack was open, re-sealing it was a real pain.

"What?" Ema said. "You want rice instead?"

"Nein," Klavier said, looking dumb-founded.

Ema scowled. "Then why have you got the rice out?"

Klavier raised an eyebrow and looked at both the containers in his hands. "Do I?"

"What the heck are you talking about?" Ema demanding, planting her hands on her waist.

"I, ah…" Klavier smiled sheepishly. "Which one is the rice?"

Ema blinked. Klavier shrugged. Silence fell.

"Are you… Are you telling me you don't know the difference between rice and pasta?"

Klavier looked guilty. "Aha ha ha!"

"Are you KIDDING me?" she cried, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I am not accustomed to cooking," he said defensively.

Ema groaned as despair crashed around her. This was going to be a _**long**_ day.

.'.

Klavier peeked out of the corner of his eye and suppressed a smile at the way Ema was _harumphing_. Her hair was dishevelled from the multiple yanks she'd given it in exasperation at him, her cheeks flushed red and her t-shit spattered with red splotches of pasta sauce. Watching her cook was as amusing as pretending not to know the difference between pasta and rice.

Of course, she had no idea that he was more than competent at cooking and he found that he didn't mind — as long as she was happily _harumphing_ at him and had forgotten about their _encounter_, he was happy to let her believe he was a 'blond moron.'

Although he did feel a twinge of guilt that, as a result of her annoyance at his feigned incompetence, Ema had demanded he step aside, resorting only to requesting his help for the most mundane of things.

However, if this is what it took to prevent her from remembering what had happened, so be it. He much preferred her annoyed and moody to quiet and embarrassed. With any other woman, Klavier might have been severely tempted to play the whole thing to his advantage, to tease her mercilessly (and even do a little bit more), but the truth was she wasn't just any other woman. She was Ema and he respected her.

"Pass me those plates," she commanded and he did so quietly, resuming his silent observation of the woman as she emptied half the pan of pasta into one plate then the rest into another. When she had finished piling the plates with salad and sauces, and she ordered him to follow her into the living room, Klavier did as he was told. Silently accepting the plate from her, the prosecutor sank into the sofa beside her.

The TV blared when she switched it on. Klavier was used to loud noise so he wasn't surprised but Ema jumped a mile into the air, almost toppling over her plate of food but he caught it in time.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, no doubt frightened by the prospect that she'd almost lost another meal.

"What would you like to watch?" Klavier said, eyeing the pile of DVDs he'd seen before. "Is there anything interesting in those?"

Ema made a face as she forked some pasta into her mouth and promptly spat it out, spluttering and fanning her mouth.

"_Hot!"_ she gasped.

Klavier coughed to cover the laugh escaping him. When he saw Ema scowl at him, he threw her an apologetic look. "I am sorry," he said with a smile. "Let me get you some water."

Before she could protest, he had rushed to the kitchen and filled a glass of water which he promptly thrust into her hands. She drank from it deeply, nodding in appreciation. "Thanks," she said.

"Anything for you," he said, sitting down and picking up his plate of food again. "So you were saying you do not wish to watch a movie?"

"They're all crap," she said, blowing on her pasta. "And all the TV's showing is how bad the blizzard is. What idiots. If I want to know how effin' bad it is, I'll look out of my window!"

Klavier smiled, throwing a glance at the snowstorm outside and sighed. "It is only getting worse," he remarked.

"Well, I've got—" She paused to test the heat of the pasta speared on her fork. Satisfied, she turned to him again speaking around mouthfuls. "I've got enough food for at least two weeks."

Klavier was shovelling the pasta into his mouth by now and only nodded, not pausing to answer. "Dats good fo no."

Ema raised an eyebrow at him. "Just because you're a foppin' rock star doesn't mean you can be rude." When he looked at her quizzically, she rolled her eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full!"

Klavier almost answered in this exact unacceptable manner but caught himself in time. Swallowing, he laughed and nodded. "I will bear that in mind." A thought occurred to him. "Do you have candles?"

"Yeah," she said, looking at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"In case the electricity gives out. We should have the candles nearby so that we do not need to search for them in the dark."

Ema snorted and pointed at the raging fire in the hearth. "That's a big enough candle."

"We will need more wood."

"There's some in the storage room next to the kitchen." She paused. "You're showing an awful lot of pragmatism for someone who can't tell the difference between rice and pasta."

Klavier didn't know what to say to that so he shoved more pasta into his mouth. They ate then, letting the sound from the TV fill the silence and Klavier did his best to eat as quietly as he could. Every so often, he glanced at Ema and found a frown on her face; once or twice she was even playing with the food on her plate.

Instinct made him speak up. "The picture of you upstairs," he started nonchalantly. "You looked beautiful."

She didn't answer straight away but when she did, there was a terseness to her tone that hadn't been there before. "Thank you."

"What was the occasion?" he asked casually.

"It was my last day at college," she said shortly. "We had a party."

"And the boy next to you?"

Klavier knew he was pushing it but curiosity wouldn't let him stop. Ema was quiet and when he looked at her, she was moving the salad around her plate, mixing it with the sauces. Her eyes had taken on a faraway look and he suddenly felt guilty and jealous, annoyed and understanding all at once.

"Colin," she said at last. "He was my boyfriend."

Jealousy flared like a fire that had just consumed oil. It almost blocked out the rest but the heaviness in her voice grabbed his attention. "Did you date him for very long?" Klavier asked.

"Define 'long'," she said sarcastically. "Apparently two years isn't that long for a guy."

Beneath the layer of sarcasm lay a subtly disguised hurt that Klavier noticed instantly. Surprise took hold for a bit, both at the fact that someone had hurt Ema to this degree and that she was actually choosing to open up to him about it.

"On the contrary," Klavier said, leaning forward, "two years is a very long time for a man."

"Well, it wasn't for him," she mumbled. He watched quietly as she set the plate down on the table and picked up her glass, sipping from it and staring at the TV. Despite trying to appear nonchalant, there was a haunted expression in her eyes that told him he'd just stumbled on an important aspect of her past. Taking one last forkful, he put his plate on the table beside hers and paused to think.

It wasn't particularly difficult to figure out that Colin (_the bastard_, Klavier couldn't help cursing) had left Ema, claiming that his time with her had been of little worth. There was just one question: _why had he gone_?

He couldn't ask her outright. It was rude and she might not want to answer and besides, he was sure he would just add to her discomfort — something he most certainly didn't want to do. Yet, he could tell she needed to get whatever it was off her chest. He didn't just want to leave her thinking about it, especially as he was the one who'd brought it up.

He didn't love Ema. At least, not the way a man loved a woman. He cared about her as a woman and he might have even gone so far as to say he loved her as a person, a friend. She was honest and hardworking and a breath of fresh air — something he didn't get often nowadays.

He cared about her enough to say what he did next.

"I dated a woman once," Klavier said, his eyes fixed on the TV though they were seeing something — someone — else. "She was everything I thought I ever wanted."

Ema turned to look at him.

"I was young, naive and caught up in my own importance," he continued with a self-deprecating laugh. "She was beautiful and intelligent and she wanted me. When the band began to get popular, she was supportive regardless of the endless women that flung themselves at me. I had fame, money, friends, the career of my life… and a woman to share it all with."

She shifted in her seat all the better to look at him. He might have been surprised but, for some reason, he wasn't.

"What happened?" Ema said and it was a sign of how intently and seriously she was listening that not a single insult fell from her lips.

"I woke up and realised I had been dreaming," Klavier said simply. "It was a very rude awakening."

"What do you mean?"

"Initially, I was nothing more than a step on the stairway to her real goal — my brother." Ema looked at him incredulously and he laughed a slow, mirthless laugh. "Her interest in me lay solely in the fact that I possessed the same genetics as Kristoph but when she saw the very real fame I was beginning to gain, her attention switched to me. All of her encouragement and love was never for me — nor, I believe, for Kristoph — but for the trinkets we could lavish her with. She coveted success and fame. Nothing else."

Ema didn't say anything, didn't offer him any words of comfort or indignation at the wrong he'd suffered — and he was grateful to her for it. To him, it was nothing short of pity and pity was an emotion he could never abide.

"I wasted 3 years of my life with her," he said quietly, looking into Ema's surprised eyes. "I have never spoken about her since, not to anyone, not for anything — until now."

"Why?" Ema asked softly but he could see the answer in her eyes — she already knew.

"Because you have to know that these people are worth nothing," he said gently. "For them, life is a playground of ambition and they care nothing for the emotional and physical well-being of others. If one, insignificant and nameless stranger were to push you in a coffee shop, would you spend your life seething over it?"

"It's different," Ema argued. "That won't stay with you—"

"—because you choose not to let it," Klavier interrupted and held up a hand when she made to argue. "No, hear me out. You could let that nameless stranger and his insolence stay with you. You could think of the many ways he could have avoided the contact, you could sit in your home and fume at his lack of consideration… But why do you not?"

"Because that's just what they are! Nameless, insignificant losers who aren't worth the time and effort!"

"And how was my girlfriend different? Apart from the fact that she was not nameless," he added jokingly.

Ema opened her mouth to answer but paused, frowned and then clamped her mouth shut.

"Do you not see, Ema?" he said kindly, turning to face her. "She is as insignificant and useless to me as that stranger. And because I realise how worthless she is, I have also rendered her nameless." He smiled. "And something tells me this… _Colin_… is of the same ilk."

Ema's frown remained and she slumped in her seat, turning to look at the TV but Klavier could see that she was actually thinking about what he'd said. A few minutes passed and he waited for her to talk, to tell him about Colin but all he received was silence. He'd given up altogether and turned away when she finally spoke.

"He didn't do anything bad," Ema said quietly and Klavier whipped around to look at her. "He didn't cheat on me or anything like that."

"Whatever he did, it hurt you," Klavier said.

Ema shook her head. "After college, we were both going to move here and live together but at the last moment he got an offer from research facility near where we'd studied."

"He took it?" Klavier guessed.

Ema nodded. "He told me to stay with him but I didn't want to. Lana lived here and I missed home so I said no. He…" She took a deep breath — the type Klavier knew was meant to come across as exasperated but was driven by an attempt to maintain control over one's emotions. "He said it was just as well, we'd had a good run and that two years wasn't that much anyway."

Shock shot through him, followed swiftly by horrified anger and Klavier couldn't stop himself: he edged closer to Ema and took her hand in his.

She didn't pull away.

"I kinda hoped he would try harder to convince me to stay or that he would take a while to at least think about what he was doing but he just made up his mind like there wasn't even a dilemma, like I was absolutely nothing. I might as well not have existed."

He squeezed her hand, wishing he could do something more to help her but he knew he could do nothing except listen.

"I know I wouldn't have stayed, even if he'd tried to tell me to but… it would have shown me that he cares." She threw Klavier a sheepish smile that turned his heart. "Typical woman huh? I know it's stupid."

"It is not stupid," Klavier said firmly. "It is natural."

"Naturally stupid then."

"Look at me, Ema," Klavier said and when she did, he shook his head. "You are _not_ stupid. You deserve somebody who would fly halfway across the world for you. Not to drag you some place you do not wish to be but to be with you wherever you are. Someone who would uproot himself to be with you wherever _you_ are happy."

Ema snorted. "Yeah. Sure."

"I mean it," he insisted.

"And where am I going to find a guy like that?"

"_I_ would do it for a woman I love," Klavier said simply.

"You would?" Ema said, surprised.

"Ja. I would do anything for her." He smiled. "And if I, the glimmerous fop of great renown, am capable of such chivalry then the male half of humanity is not lost."

Ema laughed then and the sound was so strange but so surprisingly welcome that Klavier wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her lightly. Even more surprising was the lack of a venomous response. Elation coursed through him at the realisation that _he _had made Ema laugh.

"Thanks, Klavier," she said warmly, smiling at him.

"Nein, Fräulein," he said, waving a hand frivolously. "You have thanked me far too much in the past hour. I fear another might cause my heart a fatal shock."

"An hour ago, I might have questioned this so-called heart," Ema said and cocked her head at him curiously, "but you really do have one, don't you?"

Klavier smirked. "You doubt it?" He lifted her hand to his chest, slow enough so she would see what he was doing and pull back — which she did.

"Hey! Fop-face!" She made a face. "Save the touchy-feely stuff for your fans."

"Are you denying you are one of them, Fräulein?" he teased.

"Shut up," she said dismissively. "I have a question."

"Is it about my rock-hard abs?" he said sombrely. "All you have to do is touch them, Frä—"

She thumped him and he laughed, nodding his assent. "How come nobody knows about this girlfriend of yours? I've never heard of her."

Klavier smiled, wondering if she'd realised she'd just given herself away — she must have read about the Gavinners to make a statement like that and the only reason for that would be if she liked their music.

"I forbade her to ever mention our relationship," Klavier said, shrugging. "I found out the truth just as the band was beginning to get famous. I would not allow her to succeed in accomplishing the fame she desired."

"And she kept quiet?" Ema asked incredulously.

Klavier smiled. "I was a prosecutor then too, Ema. She knew how I would handle it and she knew never to anger me. I do not believe she thinks the fame is worth the risk. That was her punishment — living with the knowledge she dated one of the most wanted men and never being able to tell another. Given her nature, there is no doubt that kills her every day." He laughed. "It is an immensely satisfying feeling."

Ema pretended to shiver. "Ooh the fury of a Gavinner!" She arched an eyebrow. "Better make a mental note never to get on _your_ bad side."

Klavier laughed again and squeezed her shoulders in another hug. "I doubt you could ever anger me, Ema."

And somewhere out in the raging snowstorm, Fate heard his words — and smiled.


	6. A Debt Repaid

Allo kids. Sorry for the abysmally late update. I've been occupied with work and fops.

In any case, I present to you the next (and by far the longest) chapter of A Gavinner's Fury. Don't worry, the entire story is not blizzard-traps-Klema-centric.

Reviews are love (and much needed in this dark time).

* * *

A Debt Repaid

"No," Klavier said firmly. "You will stay here."

"She's _my_ cat!" Ema protested, yanking on Klavier's coat as he threw it on.

"Does that mean I cannot hold her?"

"It means it's MY responsibility to find her!" Ema said firmly.

"Ema, it is raging out there. I am a man and I will behave as per genetic build." He flashed her a rakish smile. "That means I will tie you down if that is what it takes to keep you inside."

"But—"

"Her name is Aria?" Klavier interrupted.

"What the—"

"Fräulein," he called over her increasingly loud voice. "If you say one more word of protest, I shall tease you about our encounter until the day I die."

Ema's mouth clamped shut. Her glower was so lethal that one might have been forgiven for thinking he was offering to burn her house down.

"Do not worry," Klavier said, pulling on his gloves and wrapping his shawl around his neck — Ema had hung it near the fireplace so it was pleasantly warm. "She is only on the other side of the yard."

"Look forget it," Ema said hastily, beginning to pull on his arm again — something he very much enjoyed (though the detective was blissfully ignorant of this fact). "She'll come back in when she wants!"

"You said she was worth dying over," Klavier said, arching an eyebrow.

"I did not!" Ema protested.

He waved her off. "Then your eyes said it."

"Klavier!" she cried. "Have you lost your mind?"

But the prosecutor was already at the kitchen door and pulling it open. Before Ema could stop him, he was gone, slamming the door behind him. Mumbling foppish curses, she ran upstairs to the bedroom that overlooked the yard to better watch and nearly gasped when she saw the ferocity of the blizzard and Klavier's almost-lost form among the chaos. He made it across quickly, though not without some difficult from the rebellious wind, where Aria (_dratted cat_) was perched behind a pile of fallen over tools and bin.

She would kill Aria as soon as Klavier had saved her, Ema vowed, watching the prosecutor move over to the cat and bend closer (stupid furball). She didn't care particularly about him but there was no way she would let a famous prosecutor/ex-lead-vocalist for the Gavinners die on her property. No way in—

"The _hell?_" she exploded.

Klavier was moving the tools around — some of them far too heavy to deal with in this weather! Why couldn't he just call Aria to him?

She rapped on the window, trying to get his attention but it was no use. No doubt the storm was making enough noise to drown it out. Ema knew she should get wrapped up and follow him out there but her feet were refusing to obey her mind; she was afraid to take her eyes off him.

He was moving forward now, and she saw him reach out to Aria with agonising slowness; Ema was chewing on her lip with vengeance and only sighed in relief when Aria cautiously slinked into his outstretched arms.

With the (_stupid_) cat now with him, Klavier turned around and trudged through the snow back towards the house. Somewhat comforted that this horrific ordeal was almost over, Ema spun on the spot and raced through the house, making her way down to the kitchen where she threw the back door open. Though her body shivered and protested against the icy onslaught, her attention was fixed intently on the prosecutor. As he got closer and closer, she began to feel apprehensive. He looked wiped out — as if he'd run a marathon. Surely that wasn't normal? She'd seen him perform for _8 hours straight_ without seeming to break a sweat!

What was wrong with him?

When he finally reached the door, Ema instantly took Aria off him and dropped her to the ground, impatiently shooing her into the warmth of the house while keeping her eyes intently fixed on Klavier. He was pale and blinking furiously against the light of the kitchen.

"Hey," she said, looking up into his face. "You all right?"

"Ja," he answered but it was barely audible.

And then he swayed.

Ema's eyes widened and she was by his side in an instant, pulling him inside and locking the door behind him. "You're not okay, you idiot."

His only response was to take a deep breath and shake his head as if he was trying to clear it of something.

"What's wrong?" Ema asked worriedly.

"Dizzy," he mumbled, reaching out to lean against a counter.

Ema paused, wondering if a blizzard was strong enough to make someone so lightheaded and then she gasped, her eyes flying to his forehead. She swept his hair aside and grimaced when she saw the darkening bruise on his forehead.

"You obviously bumped your head harder than I thought," Ema said, trying to ignore the guilt surging through her.

_Why did I have to pull him that hard? Why did I have to pull him AT ALL?_

"Come on," she said, wrapping an arm around his waist. "You need to get to the fire."

Much to her relief, Klavier said nothing. His arm draped around her shoulders and he walked groggily, half-leaning against her. Ema could tell he was trying his best to hold as much weight on his own as he could so she moved him as swiftly as possible — he was only half a head taller than her but he was still a man and she knew she wouldn't be able to handle his weight for too long.

Upon entering the living room, Ema glowered at Aria's curled up form in the middle of the sofa.

"Get off there!" she snapped, waving a hand violently in her direction. The cat jumped off and settled near the hearth, her wide eyes fixed on Ema reproachfully. "Don't look at me like that, you miserable fur-ball."

Beside her, Klavier chuckled. Ema released him, helping him settle into the sofa; he fell into it with a soft hiss and she stood there, feeling helpless and useless as he leaned his head against the back, his hair falling around him, limp and wet.

"I had no idea your cat shared the same treatment as I," he murmured with amusement.

"Shut up," Ema said exasperatedly. "We need to do something about your condition."

"It is hardly a condition, Fräulein," Klavier said through barely moving lips. "I simply need to catch my breath."

Arms akimbo, Ema regarded him, still clothed in snow-covered clothes, his face pale and his hair drenched. With a sigh of defeat (and some embarrassment), Ema sat down next to him and tugged at the scarf around his neck. Klavier's eyes flew open when he felt it beginning to slip from around his neck and she scowled at him.

"Lean forward," she said, trying to ignore the dim sparkle returning to his eye. "Need to get you warm and these are wet and cold."

Klavier's lips twitched. "Indeed."

"Move, move, _move_!"

With a sigh, he shifted forward and waited as Ema slipped his scarf off and pulled the gloves from his hands. When she was about to snap at him for being too slow in unbuttoning his coat, she saw that his eyes were closed again and his breathing shallow. Alarm shot through her and, without pause, Ema undid his buttons, yanked the coat off his shoulders and arms and threw it aside. When she dropped to his feet, Klavier stirred.

"Nein," he muttered somewhat firmly. "I will do it."

Maybe he had a thing about people touching his feet. Whatever it was, Ema conceded quietly, sitting back as he moved forward. She caught sight of the blue tinge of his nails and couldn't help the curiosity as it guided her hand; she touched his fingers and barely suppressed the shiver racing down her spine — he was freezing.

"Fräulein?"

Klavier had paused, clearly taken aback by her action, and was staring at her, a light frown between his eyes. Gently, Ema pushed him back and shook her head. "Just let me get these off you. You're like an iceberg."

Maybe he was too shocked by her change in demeanour or maybe it was the combination of dizziness and cold but Klavier didn't protest this time. His head slumped back as Ema went to work unlacing his boots, trying not to think about how odd this should feel — she was tending to Klavier Gavin in her home because he'd insisted on _saving her cat._

She would have laughed if she wasn't so touched by the gesture.

He'd had no need to insist on finding Aria after Ema had panicked because she'd been missing and he most certainly didn't have to go out there when she'd realised where her cat was. What made it worse was the fact that he could have easily collapsed out there; a healthy person would have had a hard time battling with that blizzard but one who was obviously still suffering from the head injury…

Ema sighed, setting aside the boots and socks she'd managed to remove, and looked at Klavier again. So typical of a man to try and act macho despite how potentially serious an injury might be.

"I'm going to go get you a blanket," she said quietly. "Be right back."

_What if it was serious?_ Ema bit her lip, glancing at him over her shoulder. _What if she'd hurt him really badly? _

_Don't be silly_, a voice inside her head argued. _People bang into things all the time. Besides if it was serious, he'd have a bump. _

That was true, Ema conceded, running up the stairs. During her time at college she'd seen a girl walk into a pole and the bump she'd received had been like a mini-Everest — but she'd been fine. She was worrying for nothing… Still, when she pulled open her wardrobe and pulled out a neatly folded blanket, she also took a moment to find her First Aid kit.

"Can't be too careful," she muttered, padding her way down the stairs, both things in her arms. When Ema walked back into the living room, she found Klavier sitting on the floor, closer to the hearth. He looked ragged and out of it and the sight of him made her heart turn over.

_Who'd have thought it? The fop saving a cat._

Feeling significantly more tender than she had all day — all year in fact — Ema set down the bag of First Aid nearby and flung open the blanket. Klavier's eyes opened slightly when she lowered herself to the ground beside him and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"This should help you warm up," she said, tucking it in around his neck, adamantly avoiding his eyes.

"_Danke_," he murmured.

"I think we should get something on that bruise of yours," Ema said pulling the kit closer and giving him a stern look. "You're such an idiot. Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"It was a mere twinge," he replied with a shrug and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, this _mere twinge_ made you dizzy." She shook her head. "I'll never understand a man's need to prove himself. What if it was serious?"

Klavier said nothing. He just watched her through heavy-lidded eyes as she unscrewed the cap to a tube of cream and went about applying it to his forehead with her fingers. Ema tried her best to ignore the way he was staring at her or the way that she was beginning to tingle. It wasn't a huge deal — after all, it wasn't every day she did something like this. It was bound to feel odd to her.

But why was he staring at her? Why did he look so… so _intense_?

"I'm sorry for this," Ema said, more to break the silence than anything else as she dabbed the final layer of the cream to his forehead. "I shouldn't have been so aggressive."

She expected him to smile, to crack some joke about how even her house disliked him but Klavier's only response was to continue watching her, his blue eyes sweeping her face searchingly. Ema withdrew her hand, suddenly very conscious of his proximity, of his heavy stare. He wasn't blinking, wasn't looking away and she found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from his either.

_Say something!_ her mind screamed at her.

But her mouth was frozen, all possible words to make conversation gone as if erased from her memory.

_Move back._

_Move. _

_MOVE._

She shifted on her knees but instead of standing up, she fell into a more comfortable position — her legs sprawled to the side and she leaned against the sofa, her eyes still locked on his. Why was her body disobeying her? Why was she suddenly closer to him instead of farther away?

Klavier was still looking at her. The glow from the fire flickered over his face, enhancing his chiselled features and suddenly she could see them in their unusual entirety. The platinum shine of his hair, even as it lay mussed and damp, the tan of his flushed skin, the naturally seductive curl of his mouth and his eyes…

It was his eyes that caught her. They turned in at the corners, narrowing in the descent. She'd seen that shape before — Lana had taken her to the zoo when she was 14 and Ema had dragged her to the tigers. She remembered it well: when she'd been pressed against the glass, a tiger had slinked towards her, apparently fascinated by her wide-eyed interest. The burning embers of its eyes had been so intense that it had alarmed Lana, despite the barrier, and she had pulled her away — but not before she'd been almost nose to nose with the tiger, its eyes boring into hers with fiery concentration. It was then she'd noticed the shape — it was as if its entire face, its fierceness and menace rested around the eyes. At that moment, she'd almost understood what people meant when they said the eyes were windows to the soul.

And right now, it felt like she was 14 year old again and staring into the face of the same creature. Klavier's eyes, usually so ordinary and cheerful, seemed to hold an unchartered depth.

And inexplicably, it suddenly felt as though she was looking into the face of a stranger.

"He is a fool for letting you go," Klavier said suddenly.

Ema's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she blinked, tilting her head to the side as the fleeting emotion disappeared. His mouth had turned up very slowly at the corner and he was watching her intently. Somewhat disorientated by her strange observation (she mentally snorted — it was more like an analysis), Ema said nothing more than, "What?"

He turned to face her and the blanket she'd tucked around him slipped down over his shoulders. "It is his loss, Fräulein. He does not know what he gave up."

She felt that familiar feeling of something sinking from her chest into her stomach when she realised who he was talking about. "Where did that come from?"

Klavier shrugged and the blanket slipped further still. "I have just seen your ability to care and I am…" He gestured to himself casually before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the sofa, sighing as if he was suddenly tired. "As your boyfriend, I am certain he will have had the pleasure to be attended to several times. I do not understand how a man could walk away from something like that with such ease."

Ema's lips jutted out into a slow pout and she looked away into the fire, remembering her past. Nostalgic sadness flowed through her. "Colin rarely got ill actually," she said quietly. "And when he did, he hated being fussed over."

Klavier lifted his head again and looked at her. "He did not like to be looked after by you?"

Ema shook her head, throwing Klavier a glance. "Especially me." When he raised an eyebrow, she sighed. "He didn't want to be weak in front of me."

The blond let out an uncharacteristic scoff that surprised her. "He is an even bigger fool than I thought."

Ema bristled then, the words drawn from the remnants of her loyalty to Colin. "Why? Just because he didn't whine about being ill?"

"Ouch," he said with a chuckle, looking at her sideways. "Was that a jab in my direction, Fraulein?"

Ema felt a surge of horror. "_No!_" she burst out surprising herself as much as him (_since when did she care about offending him?)_ "I just meant—"

"I know, Fraulein," he said kindly and she watched his hands as he rubbed them together and extended them towards the fire to warm them. "I understand. But nothing should surpass love. He chose to let his pride win."

"Well, what man doesn't?"

Klavier raised an eyebrow at her. "I would not."

Ema snorted, turning away from him and learning back against the sofa. "Yeah right."

"You do not believe me?"

"Hello? Who're you kidding?" Ema said disbelievingly. "You freak out if there's one unnoticeable note out of place during a performance. Apollo told me," she added when he looked at her in surprise. "So don't try to tell me you aren't proud."

"That is not pride," Klavier said, unruffled by her argument. "When I perform I am focusing on the execution. No less than a hundred per cent is acceptable. Likewise, when I love, I love unconditionally. Nothing can get in the way — no one, nothing and certainly not something as foul as pride."

Ema blinked at him, surprised by the vehemence of his tone and for a moment she wondered at it but didn't have to think too long or hard to figure out why his expression was suddenly so dark: it was pride that had consumed his brother, after all.

"So you loved… her?" Ema asked, hoping to take his mind off…off…

_Wait, now she was looking after his feelings?_

"I thought I loved her," Klavier said quietly. "And I gave her my everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything," he repeated, looking at her seriously. There was another pause in which he threw his arms over his knees and leaned his head back. He blinked, his expression thoughtful. "I did not hold back for anything. If I was capable of that sort of devotion and love at the age of 17, I can only assume my ability will have become much more concentrated."

"You don't love anyone now?" Ema asked curiously.

"_Nein_," Klavier said. "But when I do, I will love her with everything."

"Even though you've been messed about before?" Ema said incredulously. "Aren't you afraid you'll get hurt again?"

He lifted his head and turned to look at her with a smile. "If I allow myself to think that way," Klavier said, "then I have let her win. You should not let him win either."

"That's not what I'm doing," she said defensively.

"Ja," Klavier said with a nod. "That is just what you are doing."

"No, I'm not!"

"Then you will not object to going out to dinner with me."

Ema's eyes widened and she gaped at him, utterly gobsmacked by the suddenness of his remark. "W-What?"

"Go out with me."

Ema blinked at him for several long moments. Surely he would start laughing soon? Tell her he was joking? Or maybe she'd wake up any moment now and realise that it was a sunny day, that the fop was waiting for her at work and he hadn't just tried to flirt with her…

"If it helps," Klavier added, crushing all her hopes that she was dreaming, "I can tell you the reason for my offer."

"No, thanks," she answered briskly.

Ema stood up and looked away, regaining her composure. The movement must have helped her blood circulation because her brain began to function properly and she felt annoyance surge through her. _What_ was she doing? She and Klavier exchanged an experience or two and suddenly she was arguing with him about her choices? And he was asking her _out_?

"Fraulein—"

"I'm going to get some more firewood," she said cutting across him, half afraid of what he might say. "I'll be back in a bit."

But before she had even made it to the second step, Klavier's fingers suddenly snaked around her wrist, stopping her. Ema rounded on him, surprised by his forwardness but the serious expression on his face told her she wasn't dealing with the fop — she was dealing with the prosecutor. In all her time with him, Ema had learnt to differentiate between the two — the prosecutor rarely emerged and when he did, she wasn't so quick to insult or dismiss him. And she admitted (though somewhat grudgingly) that this was one of those moments. Though this conversation had started with his light-hearted alter-ego, Ema could tell that the man staring up at her so intently was _not_ the fop.

So she paused.

And listened.

"What?"

"Please allow me to explain myself," Klavier said and Ema's eyes might have flashed with anger if it wasn't for the entreating look in his. "I have meant to speak to you about it for a while."

"Okay…" Ema said slowly. "What?"

Klavier's hand fell back onto his leg as he looked away from her, his eyes fixed on the raging fire as if he was remembering something. The reflected flames in his eyes only added to the gravity of his expression and Ema couldn't help but sink back on the floor, intrigued by the sudden change in his mood. What could he want to talk to her about that was so serious?

"After the jurist trial," Klavier said softly. "After Kristoph…"

Ema felt her heart. She remembered that trial very well — she doubted there was anyone who could forget it. A respectable defence attorney unveiled as the true culprit for the forgery that had been the fall of one of the greatest trial lawyers in California? That the defendant, Kristoph Gavin, was also responsible for one murder, another attempted and the brother of the leading star for the Gavinners only added to it. And of course, the fact that the one who helped Phoenix Wright unwind the lies was Kristoph Gavin's protégé…

It could have hardly been any more sensational.

And yet, that wasn't why it was significant to Ema. Of course, the fact that it all centred on Phoenix's downfall was important to her but the deeper connection she had to the ordeal was in its resonating echo of her own past.

When Klavier had laughed and confronted his brother about his knowledge of the forgery all those years ago, Ema's heart had almost stopped. Despite the laughter, the cockiness of Klavier's tone when he'd recounted the visit Kristoph had paid him, Ema had seen the shuttered horror in the prosecutor's eyes. For that small moment when she witnessed the horrifying truth hit Klavier, Ema had relived her own shock at Lana's capture. Her body had trembled as it had all those years ago and her insides had turned cold as the sight of Kristoph on the stand momentarily melted into Lana. She had lived Klavier's horror with him, all the while hoping that they were wrong about Kristoph. She had felt guilty afterwards because to wish that meant wishing Phoenix into an eternal forger but at that moment she hadn't cared. Ema had wanted Klavier to feel the relief she'd experienced when Lana's innocence had been proven.

But Kristoph _had_ been guilty. And though Klavier had turned his face up at the ceiling in what was meant to be a pose of resignation, a pose that in itself spoke of his disowning his brother, Ema had known better. And her heart had broken for him.

She'd gone looking for him afterwards and when she found him sitting in the courtroom, she'd been overcome with pity. Klavier had lost more than just his brother — he'd lost his sense of righteousness and gained the burden of knowing he'd ruined a man's life. She suspected he also took the blame of Zak Enigmar's death, of Trucy's loss because in the aftermath, when they'd discovered Lamiroir's true identity and her relation to Trucy and Apollo, Klavier had insisted on paying for her eye operation. He'd gone out of his way to promote Phoenix's image, reiterating his guilt and mistake for believing a man's word simply because they shared blood.

Ema knew what it was like to carry a burden like that. Hadn't she, for however fleeting a time, been subject to the same belief? That she was responsible for an act that had ended a life and destroyed her sister's?

Ema knew. She understood.

"After the trial ended," Klavier continued softly, unaware of Ema's scrutiny, "I was angry. I was dejected. And yet, more than anything else, I was disillusioned. My faith was dwindling and everything that I had worked so hard to achieve suddenly seemed to turn to ash."

Ema said nothing. She continued to stare at him, pulled into the faraway look of his eyes.

"I was ready to put down my badge and leave. Never walk back into a courtroom again. I planned to walk into the open air and disappear — if I could."

Her heart skipped a beat and though some part of her mind that wasn't transfixed captured the odd reaction to his words, she barely noticed.

"But just as I was about to do so, you came." Klavier turned to her, fixing his soulful eyes on hers. "I do not know how you knew — _if_ you knew — but you were there. You saw your sister on the stand as well. Your sister was acquitted."

"Yes," Ema said quietly. "She was acquitted of murder."

_But not of the forgeries. _

"Justice was served that day," Klavier went on, his eyes boring into hers ever deeper. "It was not the law that saved your sister. It was one man's belief."

Ema frowned in confusion, shaking her head. "I don't understand."

"It is not man who is slave to the law," Klavier said, turning back to gaze into the fire. "It is the law who is a slave to man — and his belief."

His voice was dropping with every word until he was practically whispering and she wasn't certain if he was talking to her or himself. Sensing his rising vulnerability, Ema inched closer, hoping the action would comfort him. Wherever he was, whatever moment he was stuck in, she knew some part of him would register her nearness and hoped he would take comfort in it.

"Kristoph knew this," Klavier muttered. "And that is why he was able to manipulate us all. His actions teetered on the edge of my trust in him and my passion for justice, my hatred for wrong-doing. This is what went through my mind as I sat there, ready to give up everything I had believed in and worked for…"

Of its own volition, her hand reached out and touched his lightly. If he was surprised, the only sign of it was the wistful smile that suddenly tugged at his lips. He returned the gesture with a slight squeezing of her fingers.

"And then a little Fräulein came to me," he continued, turning to her with a slightly more relaxed expression. "She reminded me of a 15 year old who survived a murder accusation, not only against her sister but also herself."

A tremor ran along her nerves at the memory and she looked away, uncomfortable with the admiration in Klavier's features. "Klavier…"

"This Fräulein, whose every morning begins with a growl, whose every goodbye is an intended insult and whose mission is to destroy my ego every minute in between…"

Ema heard the smile in his voice and couldn't help it when her own lips rose at the corners though her eyes remained firmly fixed on the floor.

"That Fräulein suddenly planted herself beside myself to remind me of a man whose belief saved a family from falling apart."

"Oh shut up," Ema said with a roll of her eyes though the smile never left. She turned to him with a sceptical expression. "You're giving me too much credit."

But Klavier's smile didn't waver. "How could I, then, quit? How could I give up, knowing of this girl's courage in the face of such adversity? It would be cowardly."

"You're acting like—"

"Do you understand, Ema?" he murmured, suddenly yanking on her hand and pulling her closer; his electric eyes flickered between hers like lightning. "With your one simple act of kindness, you gave me back everything."

She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out except a rush of air. Her every brain cell was processing the shape of his eyes, the glow of his skin, the deep blue of his gaze as it mingled with hers…

Klavier stared at her for endless moments and Ema's heart slammed against her chest. Throat dry, she looked down at where their hands rested in the space between them, still laced together. The proximity of him had taken over her and she was focusing all her attention on trying to control her emotions.

"I don't think you'd have walked away," she mumbled. "I think you're far too committed to your work to ever do that."

"What does commitment stand upon if the foundation crumbles?" Klavier said quietly. "Believe me, Fräulein. I would have walked away."

"Then you would have come back," she said firmly. "You're not the type to slink off like that." Klavier's eyes bored into hers and she looked back unwaveringly. "You needed time. Afterwards you would have been back and nobody would have thought any less of you for it."

"Whatever the case," Klavier murmured. "I am forever indebted to you."

Ema took in the sight of his damp hair, the lingering flush on his cheek and the coolness of his hand and smirked. "I reckon you've paid me back, Herr Cat-Saviour."

Klavier chuckled. "I hardly think that can even begin to compare, Ema."

The sound of her name wrapped in his voice startled her and she leaned back, frowning.

_**Whoa**__. What the heck is that about? He just used my name. It's not like I've never heard anyone use my name before. _

"What is it?" he said, having noticed her expression.

"Nothing," Ema lied.

_Wait, how am I lying? I don't know what it is! _

_Well, you __**do**__ know it's something. _

"Are you certain?" he asked.

There was a slight frown casting shadows across his brow and though he wasn't doing anything but sweeping her features, Ema suddenly felt naked beneath his gaze, like he'd x-rayed her and no amount of hiding would help her. She felt vulnerable and bare and though she knew she should break the silence, Ema couldn't tear her eyes away from his.

"It just felt weird when you said my name," she mumbled and shrugged to allay the tension that swept through her. "Just not used to it, I guess."

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "Would it be all right if I amended that?"

She bit her lip. "You mean, like calling me Ema instead of Fräulein from now on?"

Klavier laughed softly. "Ja. That is just what I mean."

"That's fine," Ema said, looking away, glad that whatever odd feeling had momentarily taken hold of her was now gone. It wasn't that she was threatened by it — she just didn't want to deal with it. Unnecessary and pesky thoughts had no place in her hectic schedule. "How are you feeling now? Better?"

He touched his head lightly and then looked at his fingers where some of the cream she'd applied had rubbed off. "It twinges," he said, rubbing them together. "But that is all. The strength of the storm simply threw me."

"Well," Ema said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him _('twinges'_). "When the storm lets up and we can actually go somewhere, you should get that checked out. Better safe than sorry."

Klavier nodded, rubbing his hands together and extending them towards the fire again. She squinted, trying to get a better look at his nails and was relieved to see the blue had all but faded.

"_Danke_," he said.

"All things considered, my behaviour is common decency," Ema said sheepishly looking away. "You don't need to thank me."

"So then you understand all I say," Klavier said, looking at her mischievously. "Usually, you blank all of my German."

Ema smirked. "I find it easier to ignore you sometimes."

"Like when I asked you out?"

Ema choked on air. "_W-What_?" _Dammit. I thought he hadn't noticed that! _

"I do not deal in assumptions, Ema," Klavier said with twinkling eyes. "I prefer a straightforward no to silence. Silence is the most dangerous trap in any conversation."

"This is one of those lawyer things, isn't it?" Ema said, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from… from _THAT_!

"Ja," Klavier said simply. "In any case, asking you was extending a courtesy. You must accept my dinner invitation."

Ema's eyes narrowed at him, feeling a familiar (and comforting) sense of irritation rise in her. "Is that right?"

"Ja," he said again and much to her chagrin, she saw that his expression was faltering into solemnity again.

_Nope. Not going to deal with Prosecutor Klavier again, _she thought. With a sigh, Ema pushed herself up to her knees and threw him a meaningful look that was meant to portray her exasperation with the conversation. He was watching her attentively and she vocalised her irritation with a sigh because he clearly wasn't getting the message.

"Klavier," she said, feeling much more less vulnerable now that she was towering over him, arms akimbo. "If I'm telling you that you don't have to repay me, why are you insisting on it? It wasn't a deal, I didn't do it with the intent of asking you to _repay_ me one day."

"I know."

"Good," she said firmly, nodding. With a glance outside where the dark was descending, she pointed towards the stairs and said, "I should get one of the spare bedrooms ready for you. Obviously you're going to be here overnight. I want to get the room warm. You stay here and I'll be back soon."

When Klavier said nothing, Ema nodded – more to herself than at him – and left the room, sweeping through the kitchen and into the storage room where she kept the wooden logs. Thankful that the electricity was still on and grudgingly admitting that Klavier was probably right about being prepared in case it gave out, she went about piling some fire-food (as she called it) into her arms. Under any other circumstances, Ema would have been grumbling about the inconvenience of the fop and cursing her rotten luck but she wasn't in _other circumstances_. This was an unanticipated situation and Klavier had proven himself to be more than just glimmer and fop. In the past few hours, Ema had discovered more about him than she was comfortable knowing — it made dismissing him all that more difficult.

Still, Ema had taught herself the fine art of putting all her thoughts in a jar and shelving it at the very back of her mind. She'd had to after Colin left. Thinking about him all the time had lost her far too much time and concentration — it was part of the reason for her failure to pass the Forensics exam.

Oh who was she kidding? It was _entirely_ responsible.

It hadn't helped that during the exam she'd been thinking about him and wondering what he was up to. Did he have to pass any scientific exams at the research facility? (Trying to remember what it was called was always a vain endeavour. Damn the French and their weird names.) She knew it was perfectly normal for a woman so deserted to wish catastrophe on the subject of her pain but Ema simply smiled, knowing that wherever Colin was, whatever challenges he faced, he would succeed. That was who he was. Her only regret was that she couldn't be there to see him through his life.

Over the years she'd gotten better and better at masking her emotions from everyone (including herself). Her investigative skills had improved as a result; she made fewer mistakes and was increasingly efficient. Having control over herself was important to Ema Skye. It was one of the few things she had left.

So by the time she emerged from the kitchen with log-laden arms and Klavier glanced up at her with still serious-eyes, Ema was able to simply look away and carry on towards the stairs. So what if she'd told him about Colin? So what if Klavier had told her something nobody but his band mates knew? It was nothing. She was willing to bet he'd actually told a couple of others too. He was probably just being nice to make her feel better or something. He would never have divulged that information to her if they hadn't been trapped in her house together and she, in turn, wouldn't have revealed her own past to him. Whatever had happened was simply circumstantial and because of that it meant nothing. Perhaps if the setting hadn't included a raging blizzard and a half frozen rock-star…

"Ema."

She stopped at the sound of his voice but just as she shifted to turn around, she felt something warm touch the bare skin of her elbow and she yelped at the unexpected contact. The logs that rolled out of her arms and fell to her feet would have hurt immensely if it wasn't for the gentle yank that pulled her out of their radius and into warmer confines.

All of Ema's outrage died when she looked up into Klavier's face and saw her reflection in his eyes, tinted with a look she'd never seen before. His hands snaked down her arms until they were encircling her wrists loosely but firmly. With another gentle tug, he pulled her closer. All her thoughts dispersed as his face lowered to hers, his eyes cloudy, his lips curled seductively… His hair was still damp and fell about his face, a few escaped tendrils tickling her as the space between them shrank. She could feel his breath, warm against her cheek.

Inexplicably, Ema shivered and her eyes closed of their own volition. Her heart was thumping so loud she was sure it would have easily won out over the storm outside. She felt exposed, shocked… _afraid. _

This wasn't her boss. This wasn't Klavier Gavin.

"If you will not accede to a dinner with me so that I may thank you…" he whispered softly and she felt a tremor go through her when one hand wrapped around hers. "Will you accept so that I may tell you how I feel about you?"

Ema's eyes flew open at those words and she gaped at him; he was looking at her with fiery intensity. Her lips parted but instead of the exclamation she'd tried to conjure up, all that came out was a whoosh of air. Klavier smiled hazily, as if he'd been waiting for just that response. With his cool fingers wrapped around hers, he lifted both her hands until they were at his chest and then he spoke—

"Ema…" he murmured, his eyes fixed on hers. "Can I kiss you?"


	7. The Spark Before The Blaze

Remember how I said this story was going to get sensual? Tread carefully people.

This is a definite T-rated warning.

Review?

* * *

The Spark Before The Blaze

"Ema… can I kiss you?"

Shocked by the intimacy of his gaze and by the proximity of their bodies, Ema's mind had temporarily gone numb, but there was something in the way that Klavier paused after his request that unlocked Ema's mouth.

"Did you say all that just for this?"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she barely resisted the urge to slap a hand over her mouth.

Klavier was looking at her with a light frown as if he hadn't quite understood what she meant. "Say what?"

"Nothing," she said hastily, moving away.

But Klavier's frown had deepened and his hold on her tightened. He pulled her back. "Say what, Ema?"

"It's nothing," she insisted. "I wasn't thinking."

Klavier wasn't convinced. His grip on her remained and for several endless seconds, he looked into her eyes. She could see the ocean-blue pools turn sharp with the intellect of his prosecutor's mind, could see him rewind through their conversations. Ema winced at the conclusion that exploded in his face, saw the shock flood his features and he let go of her as if he'd been struck.

"You thought I made her up just to gain your sympathy?" Klavier muttered, his eyes sweeping her face.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed.

"Then?" His staggered expression of disbelief intensified. "You thought I told you one of the most well-guarded secrets of my life simply to seduce you?"

Ema said nothing, damned by the words she'd not been fast enough to stop escaping her mouth. She stood there, watching his shocked expression turn into anger.

"That is what you thought?" he said incredulously, shaking his head. "What sort of man do you think I am?"

"_I don't know_!" Ema exploded. "But I know you're not the type to want me!"

"I beg your pardon," he said coldly. "Asking for a kiss generally results in the assumption that desire is involved."

"Desire?" Ema's eyes flashed at the patronising tone of his voice. "I'm not a sex object!"

Klavier's eyes flashed as well. "Did I say you were?"

"You're acting like it!" she sliced at him. "Did you think you were going to get me just because of one sob story? I'm not some bimbo that's going to drop my pants just because you say you _desire_ me!"

"I did not ask you to drop anything!" Klavier snapped. "All I asked for was one kiss!"

"I don't want to be one of your stupid conquests!" she shouted.

"I do not recall asking you to be one," he shot back. "_Achtung!_ I had no idea your opinion of me was so fallen!"

The comebacks that had been shooting out of her mouth with lightning-like ferocity sizzled and died out. The look on his face as he ran one hand through his hair frustratedly was angry but behind those blazing eyes, she saw something ripple.

_I had no idea your opinion of me was so fallen…_

He was thinking of Kristoph. Ema had no idea how she knew but there was no doubt about it. He was still haunted by his brother's trial, maybe even wracked by the thought that everyone compared him to Kristoph.

Suddenly, Ema felt a deep sense of shame overwhelm her. After failing her forensics exam, she had wondered if they didn't trust her. For countless months, her already dark mood from Colin's departure had been darkened by the fear that Lana's mistakes were being thrust upon her. She'd spent every night, tossing and turning in a bed prickled by the possibility that everyone thought she would tamper with forensic evidence and had thus been intentionally failed and reassigned. It had been Phoenix's argument that if they hadn't trusted her, they wouldn't have allowed her into the system at all, that had helped pull her out of her black depression.

_I should know better_, Ema thought, watching him turn away. Klavier was no Kristoph and he needed to be reminded of that fact, just as she had been.

"Klavier—"

"Save it, Fräulein," he cut across her stiffly, rubbing his temple. "My head throbs. I do not think I possess the stamina for more of your delightful opinions."

The injury and subsequent memory of Klavier going out in the blizzard only served to increase her shame. "I'm sorry."

Klavier turned to her with the fire still in his eyes. "For what, Ema? For telling me the truth?"

"It's not the truth," Ema argued. "I don't think of you like that."

"What _do_ you think of me, Fräulein Detective?" Klavier asked.

Ema ignored the mocking tone of his voice. "I respect you."

He scoffed. "What an interesting way of conveying it."

Again, Ema ignored him. She knew it was her fault he was being this way, knew that his sarcasm was only a mask.

"It's true you irritate me to oblivion," she continued calmly, "and the way you mingle your silly music into your courtroom dramatics is SO corny."

_"Danke."_

"But," Ema added, meeting his mocking gaze confidently, "you are the man who helped convict a criminal, even though that criminal was your brother."

The rancour in his eyes was sliced by a jolt of surprise. Taken aback by her confession, Klavier turned away and Ema's usually haughty exterior crumbled.

"I watched you try and make amends with Phoenix," she said softly. "For someone with as much fame as you do, you were surprisingly humble in admitting your mistake. You didn't have to out Kristoph the way you did in front of everyone."

"He was lying," Klavier said, his voice curt. "I do not think anybody with a shred of decency could have allowed it to pass."

"We both know that's not true," Ema said, taking a step forward and looking up at him. Over the stiff rise of his shoulder, she could see his tightened jaw. "It took a lot to do what you did."

Klavier was silent.

"I don't think I could have done it," she said quietly.

He looked at her then. His body turned slowly, the muscles in his neck visibly stretching as his eyes fixed on hers sharply. Ema resisted the urge to take a step back, steeling herself against whatever comment he was about to make — talking about her experience with Lana was always a no-no because she was always afraid of what people would say but, for some inexplicable reason, she was ready to take that risk with Klavier. The prosecutor was searching her face as if looking for something — the answer to a question, maybe? — and Ema held her chin high, knowing she had nothing to hide from him. Her past, though having left its scars on her, was clean and free of guilt.

"I know I don't show it in a conventional way—" Klavier's mouth twitched and Ema's confidence grew "—but I respect your integrity and honesty."

"You suspected said honesty by assuming I manipulated you for a kiss," he pointed out.

Ema's teeth clenched for the briefest moment. "I know. I'm sorry. I…" She stopped, unable to finish her sentence.

Klavier, however, wasn't done. "You…?"

Ema's insides tightened with tension. "I don't respond well to intimate situations."

Klavier frowned and cocked his head, seemingly confused. "But did you not have a physical relationship with this other boy?"

Ema knew he was avoiding using Colin's name on purpose but she let it pass; the forwardness of his question distracted her. "Yes."

"And did you not respond well to his…" Klavier's lips thinned. "To him?"

Ema flushed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did you?"

"He was my boyfriend!"

"So when you say you do not respond well to a man's touch," Klavier continued, ignoring her flustered outburst, "it is my touch you are referring to."

"W-What?" she spluttered.

"Why does my touch make you uncomfortable?" he asked, his eyes suddenly boring into hers.

"I didn't say it was specifically your touch!" she protested.

"_Ja,_" he said with a nod, "but I know that is what you meant."

"How would you—"

"I am a prosecutor," Klavier interrupted with a wave of his hand. "I could outline how I came to this conclusion but let us not waste any more time. We both know I am correct."

Ema gaped at him. "You're being a fop again!"

"I am not," Klavier argued. "I simply wish to know the answer to my question."

"Why?" Ema cried, stomping her foot.

"Because I want to kiss you and I would like to know why this makes you uncomfortable."

Ema bit her lip and stared at him. Dammit, she needed a way to change the subject. She eyed his damp hair, still falling around him in a mess, frazzled and mussed from the fierceness of the blizzard he'd just endured. Unaware of the fact that her mouth had taken on a mind of its own, Ema's lips parted and—

"You need a haircut."

Klavier blinked. "What?"

_"What?"_ she echoed.

_What the heck? Where did that come from?_

Klavier, however, was beginning to smile. "You wish to cut my hair?"

Ema, immensely relieved that his questioning seemed to have been averted, nodded. "Yeah! I can do it! I used to do Lana's all the time when she was here."

Klavier nodded, surprising her. Was he really going to let her—?

"If you answer my question, I will allow you to cut my hair."

Her heart sank. "Damn it, Klavier!" she snapped, losing patience. "Obviously I feel uncomfortable being hit on by a world-famous rock-star!"

"The Gavinners disbanded, if you remember."

She let out a huff of annoyance. "That doesn't mean your fame died overnight. You're always going to be famous."

Klavier looked intrigued. He tilted his head slightly. "Can you not simply view me as Klavier Gavin, the prosecutor?"

"Prosecutor Gavin is my boss," Ema retorted.

She regretted the manner of her reply instantly but Klavier seemed unfazed. In fact, he paused and then shrug apologetically before looking up at her with a soft expression.

"I am sorry for making you uncomfortable and I promise to never do it again." He smiled gently. "The last thing I would wish is for you to feel you cannot trust me."

Surprised by the unexpected apology and the tenderness of his promise, Ema swallowed. A strange and mysterious sense of guilt washed over her again. "Thank you."

"There are no thank yous between friends," Klavier said, still smiling. "And we are friends, _ja_?"

Ema smiled too then. "_Ja._"

Klavier stood there for several minutes, staring at her as if he was letting go of a possibility (probably that of anything happening between them, she guessed) and then his features seemed to clear up. He touched his hair lightly and threw her a questioning glance.

"You are not intending on ruining my image, are you?"

Ema's eyes widened when she realised what he had in mind. "You really want me to cut your hair?"

Klavier shrugged but the twinkle was back in his eye. "A promise is a promise. I have been wanting to change my hair but never found the time. If you are able and willing, I would appreciate it."

There was a split second of hesitation in which she wondered at how quick Klavier was to rework his mask into place. Though she would never admit it to anyone (or so she thought), Ema admired him for his poise. He truly deserved her respect.

Then, with one flick of the hand meant to demand his patience, she left to find a pair of scissors. The sooner she cut his hair, the sooner he would look more like himself… And less like the brother that still haunted him.

.'.

Klavier was lying in the guest bed, running a hand through his newly-cropped hair and feeling pleased with Ema's handiwork when he heard her. The soft pattering of footsteps might have been lost on him were it not for the fact that his brain was so wound up and alert, it would have picked up on a dropping pin.

At first, he sat up subconsciously registering how odd it felt not to feel his hair fall against the bare skin of his back. He listened intently, wondering if maybe he'd imagined the sound and when nothing happened to prove him wrong, he settled back into the bed. Though the blizzard was still raging outside, the room was so warm that he felt no need for a duvet which was currently bunched up at his feet. His mind swirled through the events of the day and he chuckled; he could never have guessed, when he woke up in his penthouse this morning, where the day would take him.

He hadn't envisioned himself asking to kiss Ema and he most certainly hadn't imagined her rejection. It would never have occurred to him, in all the times he'd thought about asking her out, that she would feel so uncomfortable with him but he was glad that she had told him the truth now rather than later. At least at this point, he was able to amiably agree to just be her friend without feeling any more than just a sad twinge. It was true, he'd have liked to be with her but he wasn't so far gone that he would sink into a melancholic depression.

"—get back here you—"

Klavier sat up again, his eyebrows arched at the sound. What the devil was she doing? Almost as though it had read his mind, her cat mewled and Klavier felt a stab of amusement. He looked at the doorway, noticing that the light had come on, and the shadows that trickled in across the floor made his mouth curl.

So the Fräulein was chasing Aria outside. It was no wonder she came to work so moody. If he was up at — he checked the time — _midnight _chasing a cat, he would be annoyed too.

"_You menace_!" he heard her hiss as if she was trying to make as little noise as possible. "Stay still!"

Klavier stifled a laugh, knowing he should get out there and help her. He stood up and was about to go over to the shirt he'd thrown across a chair when he heard a loud thump. Alarmed by the shriek and stream of invective that followed, the blond changed course, instead marching to the door and flinging it open.

The sight that met his eyes was so comical, the prosecutor was frozen by the force of the hilarity bubbling in him. Ema was on the floor, her night robe flowing across her sprawled out body. It was blatantly obvious that she had fallen flat on her face but Klavier could not fathom why she was making no effort to stand up. For a split moment he worried she had knocked herself out but the next string of curses that escaped her mouth reassured him.

Taking care to make sure his smile was nowhere to be found, Klavier approached her quietly. Without waiting to ask her permission, he leaned down and grabbed her by the arm; Ema yelped at the unexpected contact.

"Just me, Ema," he said chirpily, pulling her to her feet.

"What are you doing awake?" she said moodily, shrugging him off.

"Listening to the rather decidedly unfeminine cursing coming from you," Klavier replied, watching her as she spun this way and that, her eyes darting all around. "Why, may I ask, are you chasing Aria around in your night robe at midnight?"

Ema's scowled deepened. "I don't want her to go outside again."

Klavier raised an eyebrow. "Given the circumstances, I must conclude that you mistreat the cat so badly she would rather suffer the snowstorm than you." He laughed at the ferocious look Ema threw him. "That or she is mad."

"Well she's definitely mad," Ema grumbled. Without waiting for a response, she pushed past him and headed for the banister.

However, it was several footsteps later that he saw the belt from her robe trailing on the floor, untangled from its loose knot at her waist and suddenly he knew what was going to happen before it happened. Ema grasped the edge of the railing and leaned over the side, her feet slightly lifting from the top stair as she peered over the side, calling Aria. Klavier didn't hear her — his alarmed eyes saw the feet lower back onto the ground and suddenly she was standing on the belt.

_"Ema—!" _

However, even as her name fell from his lips, Klavier was lunging across the distance to grab her when she lost her balance. Her arms flailed and her face contorted into shock at the way her foot slipped — but then he was there, his fingers digging into her robe and gathering it up in his grasp.

Ema let out a cry of surprise as he yanked but he was barely listening. His arms instantly wrapped around her waist and he threw his weight backwards, making both of them tumble across the floor. For a moment, all Klavier was aware of was the mass of limbs they were and the relief that knowledge brought him — at least she was still up here and not at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck.

"Would you let me the _hell_ go, Klavier?" Ema grumbled, pushing at his arm.

It was when he became aware of her fingers clawing at his arm (which was still tightly wound around her midriff) that he realised the surface it rested against was not the fluffy material of her robe but the silken skin of her stomach.

His body jerked in response to this revelation and, quite against his will, his head lifted off the ground to look at her. She had fallen atop him, her back pressed against his front, and with the way he was still holding onto her, Ema seemed to find it impossible to get up. And Klavier, who was now staring over her shoulder down to where his arm was, found he could not let go.

Apparently he had pulled too hard on an already loose garment because it was no longer tied at the front and he was exposed to the most glorious sight he'd ever seen: her body, always so defiantly hidden beneath stiff and formal clothes was now clad in nothing more than a bra and briefs. In that moment, when his eyes roved over the sensual sculpture of her body, Klavier realised there must have been more to her modesty than sheer modesty itself. She must have known this body would drive him — drive anyone who saw it — wild. How would any of them get any work done with this goddess walking around them?

She was more than just luscious skin and toned muscle — she was a work of art, the most beautiful treasure he could have discovered. He saw the swell of her chest as it rose and fell and his body stiffened in response. He waited for her to scratch at his arm and rush to her feet, to curse him a million different ways and accuse him of defiling her but she did none of that. Instead, she lay there, still and silent and it was all the encouragement he needed.

His hands spanned the flat base of her stomach and he felt it stretch in response. With deft fingers, he massaged his way to her hips and grasped them tightly while he buried his face in her neck. He'd never imagined she could be like this; he'd dreamt of her sometimes, idly envisioned her body but never — ever — could he have thought her so beautiful. She felt and smelled divine and he was instantly drugged by her.

Somehow, he'd pulled her beneath him and her skin was pressing against his bare chest. There was a moment of complete stillness and he stared at her. She met his burning blue eyes with the clouded emerald of her own and though he could see the shock layering her face, there was no reaction. She simply lay there, her hair sprawled out across the lacquered wood and her mouth parted slightly. The spark that had been sizzling crackled and his nerves tensed under its lightning attack. Klavier leaned in slightly, his eyes still firmly fixed on hers, and brushed his lips to hers.

Ema lurched beneath him but instead of a protest at his supposed violation, her form shivered and her eyes fluttered close as if she was overwhelmed by sensation. The reaction registered oddly in his clouded brain and he paused. Why did it seem so odd that she would like his touch? Most women did. In fact, Ema's response was… was…

Wait… _No_. She wasn't meant to like his advance because… because she'd _said so_. She felt uncomfortable with his more-than-platonic behaviour, didn't she? With a jolt, Klavier remembered what she'd said to him earlier and he jerked back until he could no longer feel the heat of her skin seeping into his belly. Ema's eyes opened and she looked up at him with a slight frown that made no sense to his befuddled mind yet it didn't matter.

He had to get off her.

He had to let her go _now_.

Without paying attention to the meaning of her inaction, Klavier swung off her and rose to his feet. Of their own volition, his eyes swept her body and then he turned away, growing nervous at the way his body was responding to the sight of her bare skin.

"I am sorry," he said stiffly, closing his eyes against the increasing pain of his need. "I should not have done that."

For a moment there nothing but utter motionlessness and then he heard her move. He could practically hear the horror in her movements and he glanced off to the side and down the hall at his still-open door. Common sense dictated that he should dash for it but Klavier didn't trust himself to lift a finger.

He waited for her to move past him, and closed his eyes against the temptation and loss of control seeing her again would bring, but she was still standing behind him. His mind, which was struggling so hard to banish thoughts of her body entwined around his own, began to find excuses to turn around and look at her. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn't wanted to leave, maybe she was hurt by his rejection and all he had to do was turn around, pull her against him and—

"Fräulein," he bit out suddenly, not even trusting himself enough to use her name. _"Run."_

He heard her stir and something about his tone of voice must have got to her because he saw her then. She rushed past him, her arms tightly bunching the gown around herself but his eyes were drawn to the creamy skin of her slender calves and he almost groaned. His racing heart thumped harder at the sight and his legs were going numb with the effort it took to keep them immobile.

"Ema—" He grimaced at the hoarseness of his own voice and she stopped to look at him, her features flushed. "Lock your door."

This time the warning must have been in his face because Ema stared at him for a second longer and her eyes grew wide.

Klavier watched as she turned on the spot — and fled.


	8. Future

Finally, the story really begins. I initially intended for us to find out what it is that Ema does to tick Klavier off so bad but I'm saving that for chapter 9. I'm sure some of you will have guessed it by now.

I would like to reiterate my warning that this story is going to get increasingly sensual. No, I will not reconsider changing it. No, I will not be writing porn. I'm not interested in explicit stuff. Yuck.

Anyway, enjoy! I hope you like it!

Review?

* * *

It was past noon when Klavier finally woke up. His body ached, his head felt heavy (and somewhat tender) and his eyes wouldn't open. Nevertheless, the first thing he did was sit up and throw the curtains aside; relief shot through him upon seeing the blizzard had stopped and he examined the damage it had caused. The street was buried in at least a foot and a half of snow, the road barely visible beneath the white coating.

Still, Klavier thought, falling back into the bed and sighing, the sooner the blizzard stopped, the sooner he could get out of here.

The thought was of little comfort however and he rubbed his neck, disconcerted when his hair didn't fall against his hand. He frowned, running a hand through what was left of it, remembering the night before; what kind of madness had taken hold of him? What if Ema had completely ruined his hair? It was sheer luck he'd managed to get out of that session without looking like a complete clown.

Klavier rose from the bed, making his way to the mirror embedded in the cupboard. His eyes swept the mass of blond still framing his face and pulled at it, testing the lengths of each chunk, measuring it against the last. His dread turned to amazement: they were all evenly layered across his head, falling over the sides of his head and accentuating the sharp contours of his face. With deft fingers, he raked his bangs forward and they fell over his eye heavier than before, almost eclipsing it.

"_Verdammt_," Klavier muttered softly, a surprised laugh escaping him. She had done a better job than he'd have imagined — who'd have guessed it? The Fräulein Detective, a hair stylist.

Still, he wasn't happy that he'd lost his common sense however temporarily. He'd been too caught up in the moment last night, too willing to give in to her requests — and he didn't like losing his common sense.

It was a good reason to get the hell out of here.

And that wasn't to mention the other good reason he needed to put distance between himself and Ema. Klavier pushed the thought aside, walking back to the window and looking out again. She had made it clear she wasn't interested in him, and wasn't likely to be anytime in the near future. It was a dent to his ego though not so much so that he wouldn't respect her decision. When the night before flashed through his mind, all that he remembered was the way he had lost his senses and kissed her, and therein lay the problem. His mind would — did — respect her decision. The problem, he realised with a growl as he spun on the spot and marched out of the room, was that his body seemed unable to reconcile with his mind.

And maybe if his body and mind hadn't been so at war with each other, Klavier may have recalled the way Ema had responded when he'd touched her.

.'.

Ema skittered around the kitchen like a nervous kitten, completely forgetful of the fact that she hadn't seen Aria since last night. Her mind was engrossed in cooking (or, rather, the thought of cooking). She had been walking back and forth in the kitchen for a while now, unable to decide on what to make because her thoughts kept straying.

What the hell had she been thinking? No, wait, she _hadn't_ been thinking. She couldn't have been because to believe her brain had still been functioning meant she had _liked _what Klavier had—

"Oh, no way," Ema snapped, tearing open a bag and tipping its contents into a saucepan of water. "No amount of science would prove that I actually LIKED—"

She shuddered, unable to finish that sentence.

"I am just overthinking this," she rationalised.

"Overthinking what?"

Ema's jump was interrupted by a shriek of pain as the saucepan tipped over, the boiling water scalding her arm, swiftly followed by a loud "Ema!" — Klavier pulled her away from the pooling water on the floor. Pain sizzled on her arm and she whimpered, looking down at the reddening skin.

Klavier threw her a glance as he gingerly took hold of her wrist, turning it over for his inspection. "Where is your First Aid kit?" he asked quietly.

She might have been surprised by his confident assumption that she had one but Ema was in too much pain to care. She nodded towards the cupboard underneath the sink but before she had a chance to speak (and she was sure whatever she'd been about to say was important although she forgot a moment later), Klavier had taken her by the waist and lifted her off her feet, his steady arms settling her on the kitchen-top behind her back. Surprised, Ema watched him crouch down, rummaging through the contents of the unit before pulling out the small, white box. She reached out for it as he approached her but the blond shook his head, tutting as he came to stand before her.

"Do not be silly," he said. "I will do it."

He took another step forward and Ema grew uncomfortable at the increasing proximity of their bodies. She knew it was clinical, that he was only coming so close because he needed to bandage her but she still didn't want her legs pressing into his stomach. So, when he stepped closer, Ema automatically moved her legs out of the way, instantly regretting it when she realised that they were both now on either side of his body. Not unaware of the intimacy of their position, she ducked her head and cursed the blush that spread up the back of her neck and across her cheeks.

"Ema," Klavier said, his voice low. "Could you please lift your head?"

She swallowed convulsively. "Why?"

"Your hair is long and I cannot see what I am doing."

The flush deepened and although Ema silently complied, she looked off to the side, hoping the curtain of her hair would at least hide her to some degree. The pain had been dulled by the sharp pang of embarrassment — as if last night hadn't been bad enough.

"_Danke."_

The urge to laugh hit her. _He_ was thanking _her_? Ema could feel him working away at her arm, the fingers spreading cream across the skin. The stinging relieved with every stroke but her body was tense, wishing he would hurry up. Why had she let herself be pulled into this situation? She should have insisted on doing this herself. It wasn't the first time she'd suffered from a burn (all those experiments were bound to cause trouble, after all). She hated the fact that she kept doing stupid things like falling over, spilling things, that she kept putting herself in compromising positions but, most of all, that Klavier kept flustering her so much that she lost her vehement ability to protest (vehemently protest?)

"Would you like me to bandage this or leave it open?"

Ema started at his question but nodded towards the box next to her. "There's some gauze dressing in there."

Klavier nodded, flipping his fingers through the contents and she looked away again — she could feel his muscles pressing into her knees and calves and as much as she wanted to reduce the contact, she couldn't do that without spreading her legs which would no doubt draw his attention and he—

"I am sorry for startling you," he said softly, his eyes still fixed on her arm where he was now wrapping a thin white sheet over the burn.

"It's fine," Ema said briskly, thankful he'd interrupted her thoughts while still wishing he would hurry up and get the job over and done with. "I'm just not used to having someone around the house."

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

Ema fought the wave of embarrassment that washed over her again. So he'd heard her.

"Sometimes," she said as nonchalantly as she could. "It's usually just trivial things."

"Like last night?"

Her eyes snapped back to Klavier but his head was lowered in concentration as he fastened the bandage around her arm. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts — of course he would bring it up. It was best this w—

Wait, what? Last night was… _trivial_?

Ema felt an inexplicable displeasure hit her and if he hadn't been tending to one of them, she would have crossed her arms. As it was otherwise occupied, she made do with looking away with a sniff.

"Yeah, you're right," she said casually. "Nothing of consequence happened last night."

Klavier looked up then and though she could feel his eyes boring holes into the side of her face (which she managed to keep impassive), Ema kept her gaze averted.

"Of no consequence?" he echoed.

"Yep," Ema said, inwardly cringing at how fake her casual voice sounded. "Scientifically speaking, your genetic make-up requires you to respond to any female-driven stimulant, therefore the fact that you—"

"Stop," Klavier interrupted. "I beg of you."

Ema was so surprised by the strained tone of his voice that she looked at him but he'd already turned back to her injury. His newly cropped hair was right in front of her and as he tore part of the bandage to secure it across the arm, Ema critically eyed her handiwork, pleased with the results.

"Do you like your hair?" she asked, partly to change the subject (and partly to give him the opening he needed to massage her ego).

"_Ja_," Klavier answered looking up into her elevated eyes with a smile. "You did better than I would have expected."

"What do you mean, better than—"

"Calm down, Ema," he said soothingly having recognised the indignant tinge in her voice. "I simply meant that given your other time-consuming talents, you would not be so well trained in the art of hair-cutting."

"Oh."

He continued to stare at her, intrigued. "Where did you learn?"

"I was usually too busy with school and other things to go get my hair done. And," she added sheepishly, "I didn't always have the money for it either."

"So you did your own?" She nodded and he smiled. "I think your hair is wonderful."

Ema's cheeks flared up again and she looked away, suddenly very much aware of his position again. Even though he was done with his task, Klavier was still standing between her legs, his hands now resting against the surface on either side. "Um, thanks," she said, self-conscious beneath his gaze. "For doing my arm."

"You are welcome."

He still didn't move. His eyes were stubbornly fixed on hers.

"And I'm glad you don't hate your haircut."

"Of course not," he said with a smile. "I am delightfully surprised by how well it turned out."

Ema couldn't help but feel irked by the way he reiterated his surprise. "You said that already."

"How did you learn to cut a man's hair?"

"I used to do Colin's," she said, smirking when she recalled the experience. "I'm afraid he went through some rather tough times because of my experiments."

Klavier scoffed. "At least he was good for something."

"He wasn't that bad," Ema argued, frowning. "There's no need to talk about him like that."

The expression on his face flickered in response to her chastisement. There was a frozen moment where the temperature that had been steadily rising dropped several degrees and the blue of his eyes turned icy; he pulled back a step, his stare heavy on her face. "I see," he said in a low voice.

And then he'd pulled away entirely, turning his attention to stashing her supplies back in the box. Ema watched, more than slightly bemused by the silent activity, as he walked out of the kitchen stopping only at the doorway to look down at the mess she'd created.

"Fräulein—" (she didn't miss the formal tone of his voice) "—do you like boiled tortilla chips?"

"Huh?" She was both confused and entranced by the look on his face. "Of course not! Who has boiled tortilla chips?"

"If last night was of no consequence to you," Klavier said seriously, pointing at the floor behind him, "how do you explain that?"

Ema followed the direction of his hand and gaped at the contents of her mess: it wasn't rice that lay scattered on the ground but a mass of soggy tortilla chips. Humiliation flooded her cheeks, hot and traitorous — how could she have become so engrossed in last night that she hadn't seen what she was pouring into the pan?

But when she lifted her gaze, ready to eradicate the self-satisfied smirk she expected to be met with, Klavier was gone.

.'.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. Ema didn't see Klavier again (partly because she'd locked herself away after cleaning up the kitchen and partly because he'd done the same) until she went downstairs in search of something to eat. She was taken aback when she found him there, fixing up food as if he'd spent his life in a kitchen and, remembering his general lack of proclivity when it came to cooking, Ema frowned. Klavier had his back to her, his head bowed over a mixing bowl and his arm fiercely whisking at its contents.

"What are you making?"

Klavier turned to look at her, barely pausing in his task; his sharp eyes fell on her face and there was a moment of silence where he seemed to consider answering her question.

Great. He was annoyed with her. Ema wasn't foolish — she wasn't silly enough to believe his annoyance stemmed from anything but a prickled ego. But she didn't want to prolong the tension between them because soon they would be out of this surreal situation and back to the reality of work where this little sulk-mission would not go unnoticed.

"I was planning on a fruit salad," he said. "And here is some cream I found in the refrigerator." He smiled. "I am trying to beat it into submission."

Immensely relieved that Klavier had decided to act like a grown up, Ema smirked. "I thought the only thing you could do with food was eat it."

He laughed. "You cannot seriously believe I do not know the difference between rice and pasta," he chortled.

She frowned, puzzled. "Then why did you…?"

He smirked. "I was trying to distract you from our— _your_ traumatising encounter with… the monster."

"What the heck?" Ema snapped, hit by mortification at the memory. "_Why would you bring that up?_"

Klavier shrugged. "I thought you would be over it now. But," he said smiling slyly when he caught sight of her expression, "clearly I miscalculated."

"Shut up," Ema ordered with a scowl.

He shrugged nonchalantly, looking down at the cream he was whipping; his actions were clearly focused on the task but Ema saw the look on his face. Klavier threw her a sideways glance and when he caught the glare she was burning into him, he laughed. "Relax, Fräulein," he said soothingly. "I will not repeat it."

"Are you sure about that?" Ema asked, still suspicious.

"Well, not today anyway."

"Ugh." Disgusted, she turned away, looking for something to do and was thankful to find the dishes that had gathered in the sink. "You're a fop."

She thought she heard him chuckle but she couldn't be sure: the water was running fiercely and her hands worked at the dishes so vigorously that the noise was more than capable of blocking any sound out. Ema didn't know how long it took her to wash up (and miraculously enough, glimmer boy had remained unexpectedly quiet) but when she was done, she glanced over her shoulder to see if there was anything she'd missed only to see Klavier leaning against the counter, staring at her. His expression was intense, serious, his body still as if the slightest movement would disturb his concentration.

Ema scowled again. "Stop that."

His expression shifted into a questioning one. "Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," she ordered. "You said you'd just be a friend."

Klavier's expression slipped back into intense observation. "Am I that hideous?" he enquired.

"I already told you that's not it," Ema answered exasperatedly.

He pushed himself away from the counter and approached her. "Then?"

"You're my boss," she said.

"And you are my subordinate," he stated bluntly. She might have been insulted were it not for the way his deep blue eyes were holding her gaze: he was piercing her with the might of his perception, making her feel like she was stripped of her barriers. "But that does not stop me from desiring you."

Ema's heart skipped a beat.

"Just because you work for me," he continued, taking another step toward her, "does not mean I will not appreciate the emerald sparkle of your eye—" he reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing her temple and running down her cheek to the corner of her mouth "—or the blinding radiance of your smile."

His body was almost pressing against hers and Ema's skin burnt where his fingers fluttered, like tiny fires dancing across her nerves.

"There is not a job in this world that could stop me from wanting you," he murmured, his fingers spreading over her cheek as he engulfed her face in his hands. "Each second I spend with you is a delight."

Her mouth had turned dry. Ema could do nothing but stare up at him, paralysed by the unexpectedly passionate confession.

Klavier's eyes turned dark as they flickered back and forth between hers with startling intensity. "What I cannot fathom, Ema," he whispered, "is whether you truly deny me because of this stratification or because you simply find me — and my affection — abhorrent."

"I don't find you abhorrent," Ema whispered without an ounce of her prior frustration: she was spellbound, entirely unable to look away from his face.

"Is that the truth?" he murmured.

Maybe the exasperation finally made its way to the fore of her mind or maybe it was because he was standing so close, his eyes, his touch burning through her skin that made Ema do what she did next: her hand snaked over his shoulder, her fingers digging into the nape of his neck as she pulled him down to her level, her movements slow but sure. He was so close now that his breath raced hotly across her lips. The sensation sent a tingle up her spine, obliterating all thought, eliminating every doubt and Ema glanced up one last time: his eyes were ablaze, as if he had been waiting for this for so long he couldn't quite believe it was finally happening. Ema resisted the urge to smile, instead closing her own eyes as she pushed herself up a few more inches—

And their mouths met.

For a moment nothing happened. She brushed her lips against his and he responded by remaining absolutely still. But then, just as an insecurity began to make its way through the cloudy nothingness of her mind, Klavier encircled her waist in his arms and took over. Her mouth parted under his and he deepened the kiss, surprising her with his tender invasion.

_What was she doing? _

No—wait— Ema knew exactly what she was doing: she was letting Klavier hold her, letting him pull her against the toned length of his body and kiss her as if she was everything he'd ever wanted. His mouth was soft and gentle and she wondered if it was truly possible his girlfriend had wanted nothing more than his wealth. How could a woman stand in his embrace, be kissed with such devotion and remain unmoved?

The thought sent a shiver through her which didn't go unnoticed by him. Klavier's fingers travelled up the arched curve of her back, soothingly massaging away the tremors. He didn't understand that Ema's reaction had come from a shocking realisation: it would be _so_ easy to fall in love with this man. Even if his supple ministrations were the product of experience, she was melting under his touch; what had started off as an exercise to demonstrate his attractiveness had now turned into something else.

But even as these thoughts raced through her, Ema remained locked in his seduction. She did nothing but sigh when he tilted his head back, his tongue flickering across her lips: it was an erotic move, without any of the sleaziness and all of the reverence of a lover. It made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath cool against the moistness of her mouth.

Ema pulled back, surprised by his words, and looked up into his face. He was smiling at her, his eyes smoky. "Thank you?" she echoed.

"You kissed me to prove you are not disgusted, did you not?"

She blinked, befuddled by his statement. Had she kissed him for that…?

She bit back a gasp and it was only Klavier's embrace that kept her from falling over. _What the hell had she been thinking?_ The kiss had never meant to go as far as it had! Good God, she'd practically—

"Ease up, Ema," Klavier said, cutting into her thoughts comfortingly, apparently having noticed the way she stiffened in his arms. "I know it did not mean anything."

She blinked some more, taking in his understanding expression. Did he mean that or was he just saying it to get them both out of the situation because he'd got what he wanted all along — a kiss?

Mysteriously, the possibility made her bristle with indignation.

"Would you let go?" she asked (and would have been proud of herself for the steadiness of her tone if it wasn't for the mortification that deluged her).

The prosecutor released her, his eyes warm and his smile still present. Ema took a step back before realising there was little space between her and the sink. She peered up at him to see if there was any satisfaction in his features but when she found none, she straightened and ran a hand through her hair.

"Now you can stop irritating me with these questions about me finding you disgusting," she said sternly, surprising herself with how unwavering her voice was… because she was still shaking on the inside. "You're my boss so I can't think of you that way. That's all."

Klavier stared at her for a moment and nodded, his expression turning serious. "I understand. Thank you, Fräulein." He smiled boyishly. "You have soothed a potentially fatal wound to my ego."

She rolled her eyes, even as she slipped to the side, trying to ignore the way he followed her with amused eyes. "You're my boss and I still don't want you behaving inappropriately at work. Don't think this changes anything."

Klavier half-bowed. "I would not dream of it."

Ema grimaced, unsure if he was being serious. "I have to go," she said, walking backwards, suddenly overcome with the need to put as much distance between them both as possible. "I just remembered something I have to do."

The look on his face told her he wasn't fooled by her excuse but he simply inclined his head toward her retreating form. "Of course."

"And Klavier—" Ema halted at the doorway, her features melting into the familiar architecture of a threatening glare "—if you tell _anyone_—"

"Ema," he interrupted with a smile, "I would never dishonour what you did by repeating it to anyone else. Do not fear."

She gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and left, her thoughts pulling her in a thousand different directions, each road leading to the ultimate question: _what the hell had she been thinking?_

.'.

_A few days later._

Ema slammed her way through the doors to the office, extremely annoyed. The detective was so caught up with simultaneously shrugging off her coat and readjusting the satchel around her shoulders that she didn't see the looks people were giving her. She flew through them, even pushing a few aside in her haste to get to her own workstation. It wasn't until the dulling of the activity around her registered that Ema looked around, perturbed by the way they all turned away. She paused, her narrowing eyes sweeping over her colleagues who were now diving back into their work (some of them even quaking under her fierce gaze) and the hubbub of their chatter resumed. Ema hesitated only a moment longer before continuing on to her desk.

It had taken several days for the roads to clear up enough for either her or Klavier to get out. Thankfully, he hadn't mentioned what had happened between them (er, any of it) and his demeanour had remained friendly with little to no flirtation. He'd left that morning, his car being more expensive and therefore more resistant to the ridiculous conditions, with Ema leaving a half hour later and arriving two hours later than anticipated because hers was about ready to fall apart.

"Ema!"

She took a deep breath, dropping her coat and satchel on the table before turning towards his voice. "Detective Gumshoe," she sighed. "What's wrong?"

Gumshoe stopped before her, his shoulders drooping at the exasperation in her voice. "Nothing, pal," he said in a dejected voice. "I just wanted to say welcome back."

She felt a pang of remorse: as much as Gumshoe annoyed her sometimes, Ema couldn't let go of the fact that he had helped her (to some degree) prove Lana's innocence. And, of course, she could never forget that it was thanks to him she'd had a chance to talk to her sister before leaving for Europe.

"_I came today because of you, pal!"_

"_Me…?" Ema asked, surprised. _

"_That's right," Gumshoe confirmed, looking absurdly pleased with himself. "I thought you'd like to see someone."_

_He stepped aside to reveal the older Skye, her posture proud and regal as ever. Ema's heart leapt in her chest. "Lana!"_

"_Should you be doing this?" Phoenix asked, glancing around the lobby before turning back to Gumshoe. "She's still under arrest, you know."_

_He looked momentarily unsettled by the implied repercussions of his actions but then seemed not to care because he smiled. "Well, I won't tell if you won't," Gumshoe replied with a chuckle._

No. She couldn't ever remain annoyed at him for too long.

"I'm sorry, Detective Gumshoe," she said, taking a deep breath. "I've just had a hard time with all this snow."

He perked up instantly, his smile back with full force. "I understand, pal!" he reassured her. "Maggey almost didn't let me come to work today, she was that worried I'd wreck the car."

"Is Gavin here yet?" Ema asked, hastily changing the subject — Gumshoe didn't have a stop button when it came to his beloved wife.

"Yeah, pal, Mr Gavin got in over an hour ago!" Gumshoe paused, his features pulling themselves into a puzzled frown.

"What is it?" Ema asked warily; that look was usually accompanied by some blunder on his part and she certainly didn't relish getting into trouble for his mistakes.

"Uhh… someone was looking for you," he answered, his face scrunched up in thought. "But I can't remember his name."

"What did he look like?" Ema asked.

"About your height," Gumshoe answered. "Black hair, blue eyes. He looked kind of familiar, actually."

Ema frowned. She couldn't think of anyone who matched that description. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No," Gumshoe said. "But it must have been urgent because he came at least twice while you were away, pal!"

And, of course, he hadn't had the frame of mind to try a little harder to find out who this man was. She resisted the urge to groan. "Did he leave a message?"

Gumshoe's face lit up. "As a matter of fact, he did!" he chuckled.

Ema waited for a moment and when the other detective looked like he'd lost his train of thought (again), she sighed. "Well, what did he _say_?"

"Oh, he said he'll try to catch you later."

She let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. Getting information out of Gumshoe was like trying to draw blood from a stone and it _always _exhausted her. "All right, thanks," Ema said with a nod.

Gumshoe, however, wasn't done. A thought seemed to occur to him because he perked up again, throwing her a million watt smile. "Oh and nice goin' pal! You got everyone shocked but I told them you're just full of surprises! I think it's great!"

Though confused by this weird tangent, there was something about the proud look in Gumshoe's face that unsettled her. "What are you talking about?" Ema said slowly.

"Klavier Gavin, pal!" he exclaimed.

"Gavin?" she echoed, feeling the dread starting to seep in. Nothing good could come of being associated with the fop.

"I gotta go, pal!" he said suddenly, spinning on his heel and shooting off, shouting over his shoulder. "I'll talk to you soon!"

Ema saw the futility of calling after him, instead slumping into her chair. She didn't like to jump to conclusions (and in this case, she _really _didn't want to) but the way he'd answered her question and the way everyone had all been staring at her didn't leave her a positive feeling. There was only one way she could resolve this without embarrassing herself (and exacting the appropriate punishment if required) and that was to simply hear it from the trouble-causer himself. Determined, Ema shot to her feet, rounding on the spot and marching off through the department, her eyes fixed on the two doors in the wall.

_If he's told __**any**__ of them…_

Even her inner voice was shaking. Ema sincerely hoped she was wrong because she didn't want to spend her time rotting behind prison bars and her restraint was not so great that she wouldn't kill Klavier. Uncaring of the way everyone was staring at her as she banged open the doors to the prosecutors hall, she sped up in her bid to get to his office. She whisked past the multiple doors, not needing to look at the numbers on them to know which one was his.

"Gavin, what the—"

The mix of her voice and the sound of the door flying open echoed around the empty office and Ema's scowl deepened when she saw that he wasn't there. She took a few steps forward, debating whether or not she should wait till he came back, when her stream of thought was interrupted by the sound of voices coming from down the hall. Ema was not the type of person to eavesdrop but this was different… considering they were talking about her.

"But _Ema Skye_?" The stress on her name was marked with incredulity. "Who'd have thought it?"

"I see what you're saying. To be honest, I'm surprised she didn't chop his head off, the way she's always going off at him."

"Maybe that's what it is."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's that whole love-hate relationship thing."

"Wait, you think they're in a relationship?"

"The fact that Prosecutor Gavin is still alive is indication enough that anything's possible."

Ema's fists were balled onto fists by the time the voices receded. Her eyes, which had at first widened into shock, were now narrowed into slits so sharp, they would have cut through anyone and her cheeks were burning fiercely. The blood pumped through her head, fuelled by shame and rage.

So. Klavier had shown himself for the scum that he was — after all of his guarantees that he would guard her reputation, the dog hadn't lasted two hours before telling everyone. She wanted to kill him. No, she wanted to take all of the guitars down from his glass case and smash them into pieces and _then_ kill him.

Ema practically threw her common sense fly out of the window.

"I'll cost him a fortune," she snarled, kicking his door shut and charging at his musical collection. "I'll make him rue the day he met me!"

Picking up a stapler from his desk and flinging it at the cabinet, she revelled in the satisfaction the sound of the shattering glass brought her. Fully aware of the illegality of her actions and not caring that she was going to get into so much trouble for it, Ema wrenched the first guitar off the wall and brought it crashing down on the ground.

_She'd trusted him!_ In spite of his frisky, unsuitable behaviour, she'd trusted him! She'd laid herself bare, had told him about Colin, had kissed him simply to restore his ego and what had he done? What had he done? _HE'D GONE AND BRAGGED ABOUT HIS CONQUEST TO THE WORLD!_

Ema stared down at the guitar in her hands, unbroken but splintered and dented. It wasn't enough. Just smashing his things wasn't enough. He flirted with her, embarrassed her in front of her colleagues, made her feel inadequate and small and had now taken away the last scrap of dignity she had had left — her obliviousness to that… that Gavinner bitch!

With a growl, Ema threw the instrument aside, suddenly feeling sullied for having touched it, knowing it was infected with his fingerprints. She needed to show him up as much as he had her. She wanted him to feel the same betrayal she had.

And it didn't take long for an idea to come to mind — it was as if it had been sitting around in her subconscious, waiting for a moment just like this.

Ema dug around in her pockets for her phone and flipped it open, marching out of the office, simultaneously dialling Phoenix's number and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hello, Ema," Phoenix's voice answered after a few rings, laden with a smile.

"I have a favour to ask," she said bluntly

"Uh, sure." He sounded surprised, no doubt taken aback by her hard voice. "What do you need?"

"A number."

.'.

_A few hours later._

The moment he saw the mess, Klavier knew who was responsible for it. It wasn't that he _expected_ her to do it but there was nobody else in the office who had the nerve — or a reason — to do it. They feared and / or loved him too much to intrude on his territory. Remarkably enough, as he stood over the mess, running a hand through his hair and listening to a subordinate promising to find whoever was responsible, all Klavier could think about was Ema's welfare.

What could have possessed her to do something like this?

So, he'd simply had the mess cleaned up and sent someone to find her only to be told she'd left the premises less than an hour prior and could not be reached. He tried her phone himself (having stolen her number while they'd been cooped up together) but found that she refused to answer. Frustrated, Klavier fell into his chair and barely moved from that position for the next few hours.

Had he done something to upset her? He rewound to that morning: she had been perfectly amiable when she'd seen him off and they hadn't spoken since. He hadn't had the chance to anger her.

Was it the kiss? Did she blame him for it? Did she regret what she'd done and couldn't face him now because she was angry at him for putting her in that situation?

Involuntarily, his thoughts went from apprehension to discomfort: every time he recalled the way she had taken charge and pulled his mouth to hers, Klavier's body tightened achingly. She kissed so sensually, so expertly that he was torn between jealousy at the experience that had made her such an expert and his own burning desire for her.

Unluckily for him, the Gavinner had also seen what she hid beneath those unflattering clothes and it only made him want her all the more.

It didn't help that he was ripped from such sensual thoughts to find the object of his fantasy standing in his doorway, as if summoned by his mind. She was standing militantly, hands on her hips and a look of intense dislike on her face.

"Ema!"

It was enough to jolt him out of his chair and he walked towards her, beckoning the detective into the room as he closed the door.

"What do you want?" she snarled and he might have flinched at the venom in her voice if he wasn't so used to it. "One of your stupid groupies said you wanted me."

He suppressed a groan. She had _no_ idea she was saying all the right words at the wrong time. Still somehow managing to keep a cool facade, he gestured towards the smashed cabinet.

Before he could say a word, however, Ema sliced a hand through the hair. "Oh please," she sneered. "Don't even try and tell me I have to pay for that. I'm not going to."

Ah, so it _had_ been her. He smiled inwardly, not trusting the situation enough to allow it to come to the surface. Klavier observed her closely, puzzled by the uncharacteristically harsh lines in her face; she glowered at him often but he'd never seen such an unforgiving expression on her face before. Her fists were clenched, her chest rising and falling with increasing speed and her eyes were glittering with evident fury.

Klavier cocked his head to the side. "Ema," he said softly, taking a step toward her. "I am much more interested in what would induce such behaviour."

She laughed derisively. "Oh, how considerate of you!"

Klavier ignored the sneer in her voice and took a step forward. "Why are you so angry?"

"Stop trying to act like you give a damn!" she snapped. "I'm not fooled!"

"Ema—"

"I'm not paying for your stupid guitar! You deserve what you got. Count yourself lucky I didn't destroy the rest," she said angrily, sidestepping him. "Now get out of my way."

Klavier sidestepped too, blocking her escape. "I do not care about the guitar," he told her, stepping in the other direction to block her when she moved again. "Ema, tell me what I have done."

She froze, looking up at him with incredulous laughter. "You actually have to _ask_?"

"Is it the kiss?" he guessed. "Are you—"

"_How fucking dare you?_" she yelled suddenly, drowning out his words. "Isn't it bad enough that you told everyone about it without acting like you're innocent? At least have the decency to admit to what you did!"

Klavier felt her words like a blow to his chest and he was temporarily at a loss for words. He didn't quite understand if it was the accusation that shocked him or the way she was behaving and he could do nothing but stare at her, bemused. However, when Ema pushed him aside, he caught her wrist in his hand and pulled her back.

"Let go of me, you bastard!"

Klavier kept a firm hold. "Ema, what are you talking about?" he demanded pulling her closer. "I have not told anyone."

"Right," she said sarcastically. "I suppose it's your hairdo everyone is talking about out there!"

He was about to answer except the words died on his tongue and the thought evaporated from his mind. His prosecutor's mind was putting together her words and personality, instantly concluding the disaster that was tightening its hold on them. Ema started struggling again but his strength was greater and no matter how much she clawed at his fingers, Klavier was not releasing her.

"Ema, stop thrashing," he commanded. "You are condemning me for something I have not done."

She threw him a scathing glance. "Then who did?"

"I do not know what you heard," he said honesty, "but I did not tell anyone about what happened."

"You're lying!"

"I am not," Klavier insisted, fixing her eyes with his. "There is only one thing I have divulged and it is that you are responsible for my new hair."

Ema's eyes narrowed. "You expect me to believe that?"

Klavier cocked his head. "Ema, I promise you I have not told anyone about the kiss—" she pulled suddenly but he tightened his grip, refusing to let go of her. "No, _listen_! I swear to you, Ema, I have not and will _not_ tell anyone. I told you I would not betray you like that."

"Then why the hell is everyone acting like I just sprouted an extra head?" she demanded. "People are saying they're surprised I didn't chop your head off!"

"Fräulein," he said, hoping the more formal term would encourage her to pay attention to what he was saying. "When I told people you had styled my hair, they were surprised. I can only surmise it is because you had a pair of scissors so close to my neck, it is a wonder to them I still have my head. Everyone is aware of your less than submissive conduct towards me."

Oddly, the detective had gone utterly still beneath his grasp and was now looking up at him with a frozen expression of horror. He stared at her, saw the wheels turning behind those eyes and the look on her face intensified.

"You…" Ema swallowed, her voice suddenly thick with something he didn't recognise. "You didn't tell anyone?"

Klavier shook his head. "Of _course_ not. I told you I would tell nobody." He sighed. "I wish you would not always assume the worst of me."

But instead of the relief he'd expected, her face turned ashen. Her eyes seemed to flicker and she stared up at him as if he'd gone from telling her he was a thief to admitting murder.

"_Oh my God…" _

"It is not all bad," he said letting out a laugh. He frowned, increasingly puzzled by her suddenly pale complexion. "They think you did a fabulous job."

Ema did not seem comforted by this. She looked off to the side, all of the fight suddenly leaving her and Klavier felt the first twinges of concern.

He tipped her chin with his fingers. "Ema?" he murmured.

"Could you please let go of my hand?" Her voice was a tremulous whisper.

He compiled gently, his fingers slowly unwinding from around her wrist, but before he could get another word out, Ema had disappeared: her form moved faster than he had ever seen it and, within seconds, she'd pulled the door open and fled as if the very hounds of hell were after her.

And Klavier, utterly befuddled by this surreal mood change, could do nothing but stand there and run a hand through his hair, completely unable to understand what it was that had sent Ema running.

Unfortunately for him, he was soon going to find out. The very next morning in fact — and Ema was going to wish she'd never been born.


	9. The Ultimatum

The Ultimatum

_The Jurist trial of October 2026 revealed many things about some of the most well-known personas of our time, not least of which was the dysfunctional relationship between the Gavin brothers. Kristoph Gavin, older brother of ex-Gavinner star Klavier Gavin, was revealed to be a forger and murderer — not a sub-heading that compliments his title as the 'Coolest Defense In The West'. However, while the murder charges were explained, this author has always wondered (and speculated) that the forgery Kristoph Gavin used against Phoenix Wright was not ordered with the intent to destroy his rival._

_It has been proven several times trough trials, inquisitions and prior media releases that Mr Wright was in no position to forge anything. After all, he had less than a day to prepare for Mr Enigmar's trial. Is it really possible for him to have analysed the evidence, come to a devilish conclusion and then contacted Drew Misham to place his unethical order?_

_This author thinks not. Why the Law Association failed to see this gaping hole in the argument is a mystery but that Kristoph Gavin was present at the proceedings (that resulted in Mr Wright's loss) was no doubt a contributing factor. However, as this matter has been extensively discussed, there is little use in regurgitating it._

_The question is this: if Mr Wright did not possess the time frame to order the forgery then who did? Reader, I believe you know, as well as I, that the answer is simple: Kristoph Gavin. And just like Mr Wright, he could have not acquired the forgery in such a short time and therefore, we must conclude that the deed was done long before his dismissal at Mr Enigmar's hand._

_Which leads us to the next question: __**why would he have ordered a forgery when his trial was against his own brother?**_

_Given the shocking circumstances of the case and the people involved, the trial was on centre stage with the whole world watching. There is no doubt the lawyers involved in the Gramarye case had much to gain. For rising sensation Klavier Gavin, the fame meant little and as he worked for the state, he hardly needed to attract customers. Mr Gavin, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Imagine how humiliating it would have been for the proud German should he lose such a high profile case to a greenhorn and — most importantly — his younger brother. The blow to his image and his clientele would have, no doubt, been great._

_But now that we have taken a quick recap of this deeply disturbing case, let us journey back a couple of weeks beforehand. A source close to the Prosecutor recently revealed new information which could better help us understand the madness of Kristoph Gavin and the shocking decisions he made. It seems that in the Law-dominated world of these successful brothers lingered a void filled by that necessary evil — a woman. Being the world's most eligible bachelor has meant that up until now, every woman attached to Klavier has been subjected to the scrutiny of the media._

_Or so we thought._

_You see dear readers, I have recently had the privilege of discovering a secret so closely guarded that it has evaded even the most intrusive of journalists: at the age of 17, Klavier met and fell in love with a young woman who changed the course of his life. Her name is unknown as of yet but as a wise man once said, 'what's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet'... and would harbour all the same thorns._

_She had everything, from his heart-melting voice to his considerable wealth. It is on good faith that I claim he would have made her a devoted husband but the heartbreaker sought something else. It is a sad but true fact that the playboy we know and love today is the product of her most forbidden desire... his brother, Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin._

_Herein lies the most important question of all: what did she mean to Kristoph Gavin?_

_And what did she do to the Gavin brothers?_

.'.

Fury pumped through his blood like acid, eating away at his insides, corroding any sense of understanding. His cold eyes were lowered to the article on the desk where the words jumped out at him like venomous snakes:

**GAVIN VS Gavin**

_**Where did the rivalry begin?**_

She'd betrayed him.

There was no doubt in his mind as to the identity of this source. He'd never expected her to do something like this but now that she had, there was no surprise — there was no space in his mind for it. He was preoccupied with too many other things: how far this would spread, what his brother would say when he heard about it, what_ she_ would think (no doubt arrogantly assume he was still pining for her), how he was going to control the situation.

He turned around to where his band-mates were all silently watching him. One by one, they'd all come to see him and without saying a word had given him the stability and counsel they knew he would need. He knew part of their scrutiny lay in making sure he didn't do anything stupid but Klavier didn't care at the moment.

"Where is she now?" Seren asked quietly.

"Hiding, if she knows what's good for her," Raoul snorted.

"I have already tried to look for her," Klavier said. "She is not at work yet."

"She's the Skye chick, right?" Raoul asked. "Lana Skye's sister?"

Klavier nodded.

"What the hell was she thinkin'?"

"She believed I had told everyone we kissed."

"You kissed?" Deston said, surprised.

"_Ja_."

"And she freaked 'cause she thought you'd told people at work?"

"You didn't though?" Seren guessed.

Klavier said nothing.

"You need to make a statement," Deston said, turning the conversation in another direction. "Quickly, before they start assuming your silence is a confirmation."

"I will talk to the Fräulein first," he told them. "Then I will deal with the media."

The Gavinners looked at each other and even though the question in their eyes was evident, they said nothing. A long moment passed and then Raoul stirred, pushing himself to his feet. "I hate to do this to you but I gotta go, Gavin." He looked at Klavier seriously. "You need anythin', you call me."

"I have to go too, mate," Seren agreed, standing up as well. "Are you—"

"I am fine," Klavier said calmly. "Thanks for coming."

They understood that he wasn't fine but needed his space nonetheless so, with a nod at Deston, both of them left, quietly closing the door behind them. The drummer glanced at his friend and it was evident from the look on his face that, even if the other two had decided to grant Klavier some peace and quiet, _he_ wasn't going anywhere.

"K," he started in a serious voice. "What are you going to do about her?"

Klavier stared a moment longer at the article and the words **GAVIN VS GAVIN** rippled beneath his gaze. What was he going to do with her? He knew he could fire her immediately and he would be justified. His superiors would understand once they knew what she had done. They wouldn't question him.

The problem was he didn't want to fire her. It would be too light a punishment for what she had done. He could tell everyone that she had kissed him of course — given the severity of her response when she had initially believed him of doing so demonstrated just how horrible the thought was to her. Then again, that would only be embarrassing for her. Everyone else would probably just be impressed or jealous that she landed one on him. That wasn't enough. Klavier needed something that would equal the trouble she had caused him; he would be dealing with the media for weeks, probably months. They would be in his past, in his present; they would be trying to get through to Kristoph and finding _her_, the mystery woman…

He could reveal all he knew about Colin but what would that achieve? She was not famous, she would not be subjected to the invasion of privacy he was already suffering. Even her colleagues would not be interested in her past. So what if she'd had a love interest that had hurt her? So did everyone else.

"K?"

He looked at Deston whose expression of concern somewhat irked him while simultaneously making him feel guilty. He knew his friend was only worried about him but he also wished for solitude.

"I do not know what to do with her yet," he admitted.

"I don't suppose you need to ask her why she did it." Klavier shook his head. "Will you fire her?"

"_Nein_," he answered. "That would be too easy."

Deston's expression turned wary. "Klavier…"

"She has single-handedly revealed my past with Serena and brought Kristoph into the equation," he said sharply. "The media do not know I kept the bitch a secret to punish her and even if they did they would not care. What little I salvaged for the Gavin name since Kristoph's trial has been ruined!"

Deston had the wisdom not to argue that point because no matter how much the world loved Klavier, he was their number one best seller — any story on the Gavins flew off the stands like crazy.

"K," he started quietly. "Why did you tell her?"

The prosecutor looked at him with icy eyes as if to determine whether or not his friend was chastising him but when he saw the genuine curiosity in Deston's gaze, he looked away. Remembering his reason for telling her, Klavier was reminded of the vulnerability of Ema's expression, the hurt that had been on her face at the reminder of Colin, and he softened.

"I wanted her to trust me," he said. "I believed if she trusted me, I could help her."

"Do you love her?"

Klavier turned on him with surprise. "What?"

Deston shrugged. "It's not like you go around telling all the women that need help how your own heart was broken."

He surveyed Deston's expression. "The only reason you know is because you witnessed my relationship with Serena. I concede, telling Ema was an unusual move," he said calmly and the drummer smiled, "but I do not love her."

"Does she love you?"

"_Nein_."

"Then why did she kiss you?"

"A kiss does not necessitate love. Besides, I was angling for a compliment," Klavier confessed. "My self-deprecation irritated her sufficiently that she believed kissing me was the only way to reinstate my self-confidence."

Deston's face flickered and for a moment he looked like he desperately wanted to say — _do_ — something but then his expression fell back into its calmly logical position. "You don't love her," he said with the air of a man trying to figure something out, "but you feel something for her, don't you?"

Klavier saw little point in denying it but the fact irked him. "What does it matter? The woman has betrayed me and she does not even possess the decency to face me."

The other Gavinner quirked an eyebrow. "Do you blame her?" The blond glared at him and he raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, all I'm saying is, it sounds like she regrets what she did. She probably left just to see if she could stop it."

Klavier snorted. "Stop the media? _Ha_."

"It doesn't mean she didn't try," Deston continued. "And from what you've told us about the _Fräulein_—" (the emphasis earned him a dirty look) "—she's not the type to fear you. It sounds to me as though she's more ashamed than scared. That should count for something."

"It does not," he said coldly. "She did this because she assumed the worst of me, as always."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Do not try and play word games with me, Deston," Klavier warned. "I am not in the mood for them."

Deston sighed. "I'm not playing with you, K," he said patiently. "I just want to help. I don't want you to do something you'll regret later."

"I will not."

"Fair enough," Deston said calmly and Klavier looked at him, suspicious of the agreeability of his tone. "Answer me one question—don't dodge it—" the prosecutor rolled his eyes "—what exactly do you feel for her?"

Klavier frowned. What did he feel for her? It was an alien question. At this point in time, he wanted nothing more than to find her and take hold of her and—

And what? What exactly would he do? How could he lift a hand to…to…

Unbidden, a vision of her crossed his mind; she was clad in the same gown she had that night, the milky tone of her skin gleaming like moonbeams in the darkness of his vision. His body reacted to the sight, torturing him and he groaned, sinking into his chair with a curse. How could he be feeling this way even now? How could he desire her when she'd done what she had? She'd screwed him over for Christ's sake! _How could his body betray him? _

And yet there was already a part of his mind that was reconciling with the physical response to thoughts of her. It was, he realised, something he'd been aware of for some time but hadn't really acknowledged: he didn't love her — but there was a part of him that wanted her, wanted her more than he'd wanted any woman since Serena. It was enough to tell him that it went beyond his physical desire. she had rejected him and he hadn't pushed her. He'd respected her wishes and backed off.

He'd cared.

"It doesn't hurt If you don't care," Deston said quietly, having seen the look on Klavier's face.

"She does not care," Klavier answered, ignoring Deston's deduction.

"I don't think that's true," he argued.

"_Sie irren sich_," he muttered.

The prosecutor leaned back in his chair. Images of her flitted across the white canvas of the ceiling as a thousand questions spun through his mind. It didn't matter how philosophical Deston got with his questions — something inside him couldn't let go of his anger, the betrayal that was still running through him. He had opened up to her. She was the first woman he'd bared himself to in seven years and she had used it against him without a thought.

_What else can I expect?_ he thought bitterly. _She cares nothing for me. She is still so caught up in the past, she believes—_

Deston's eyebrows shot up in surprise when Klavier sat up suddenly, his back arched.

"Perfect."

The drummer's wary look slowly turned to alarm at the look on Klavier's face. "What is?"

But the prosecutor had already called for his secretary. "Call Detective Skye and tell her she is needed. I do not care where she is. Her presence is required in my office immediately."

"_Yes, sir."_

Klavier leaned back in his chair, a satisfied spreading across his lips and Deston barely suppressed the irritated tone of his voice. "Aren't people going to talk if you—"

"Nobody knows she is the source," Klavier cut in. "I have kept that to this room."

Deston rubbed his temple. "Do I _want_ to know what you're up to?"

"She has betrayed my trust and ensured weeks — months — of the media prying into my relationship with _mein bruder_." Klavier smirked. "I have just thought of something that will simultaneously punish for the former and eradicate the latter."

"Klavier—"

"I am killing two birds with one stone," the prosecutor said in a gratified tone, clearly not listening to his friend.

"I hope you don't cut yourself throwing it," Deston muttered.

.'.

Ema seriously considered suicide after the call. It burned through her mind like a flash fire, spreading down her body.

He was calling her into work. He knew.

She'd hoped he wouldn't but she guessed that was akin to sticking her head in the sand in the face of an oncoming storm. How would staying at home help? She realised, as she got up from her place on the sofa, that not turning up at work had been completely the wrong thing to do: she never missed work — doing so had probably only added to his suspicion.

There was no point in dressing up for work when Ema knew she would probably be leaving the precinct pretty much straight after he was done. Her unsteady hands reached for the keys on the table where she'd thrown them the previous night after coming home and made her way out of the front door.

The truth. She would tell him the truth — that it had all been one big mistake made in anger, that despite her best attempts to stop the publishing of the article, Ema had been unsuccessful. Maybe if she'd been dealing with Lotta Hart or Spark Brushel, she could have asked them to stop but the woman she had met had been ruthless and entirely unwilling to give up the story. Ema had had no chance.

Her car seemed to sense the impending doom too — it gave her far more trouble than ever before as she journeyed to her destination. With each spin of the wheel that it reluctantly took her forward, Ema's heart thudded wildly in her chest. She couldn't remember feeling this afraid since Lana's arrest; even when Klavier chastised her (and he had, most prominently after she'd withheld evidence during Daryan's trial) she'd never been frightened.

But now she was terrified and it was because she knew she was wrong.

Her feet were heavy as she stepped through the building entrance. Instead of the usual elevator, Ema chose to ascend the stairs. She knew it was silly and all she was doing was prolonging the dread pounding inside her but soon, she would be out of a job and she rather thought she preferred this feeling than to the crippling failure that would sweep through her.

"Skye," someone called out her name. "Prosecutor Gavin was looking for you."

Ema didn't have the energy to answer. She plodded on until she found herself standing before his office door, lifting one hand and rapping her knuckles on the wood. There was no sound but before she could try it again,it swung open, nearly giving her a heart attack.

"Detective Skye." Deston Cavatin nodded at her from the frame, his expression serious. "Come in."

He stepped aside to let her pass and Ema threw him a worried look. Oh _God_. Was she going to be subjected to an audience?

"Close the door, Deston," said another voice and she froze in her tracks at the sound.

She couldn't look at him. She couldn't.

"I'll be downstairs," Deston said, looking over her shoulder before turning his eyes on her. They were silver and sharp and they fell on her assessingly. Ema resisted the urge to gulp and barely managed to respond when the drummer nodded at her as he left.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed around the silence.

She was scared to turn around.

She was scared to look at him.

She was scared to _breathe_.

"May I ask why you did not come to work this morning, Fräulein?"

_Shit. _

His voice was genial, the question calm and normal… but the sound of his voice wasn't. He asked it silkily, leaving no room for misunderstandings.

He knew. And they both knew he did.

"Shall I hazard a guess?"

Ema squeezed her eyes shut. Was it her imagination or did his voice sound closer? A part of her wanted to turn around and check but the coward in her had completely taken over.

"Or will you, by any chance, admit the truth to me?"

_Turn around. Turn around and face him. _

Oh, but how could she? How could she look him in the eye and—

"Ema."

His voice was suddenly in her ear and she jumped half a foot in the air but when her feet hit the ground again, she turned to look at him and almost stumbled at his expression. His eyes were icy, his mouth set in a grim line and every sharp curve of his face was harshly enhanced by fury.

"For all your assurances that I am not repulsive," he hissed, "you punished me rather severely for believing I had publicised our kiss."

"W-What are you talking about?"

Oh dear God. _Why had she said that?_? She'd planned on admitting to her mistake, apologising and leaving. _Why was she lying?_

"You do not know?" he whispered, lowering his face until it was inches from hers. "You have no idea what I mean?"

Actually, as she looked into his face, the answer was pretty clear. She was lying because Klavier's wrath was terrifying her. "Klavier," she tried again, hoping her voice wouldn't give out. "Can you tell me what this is about?"

She instantly knew that was the wrong thing to say because he smiled. He took a step toward her and instinct made Ema step to the side, knowing if she kept moving backwards she'd be trapped between him and the door but Klavier followed her.

"Are you telling me," he said in a low voice as continued his approach, "that you have done nothing to warrant admonishment?"

Ema sidestepped him again. "All I'm saying is I have no idea what's made you so angry," she said, cringing inside because they both knew she was lying.

"Then why are you scared?" Klavier enquired, moving closer.

"Because I don't like that look in your eye!" Ema said frantically, no longer caring that she was hastily retreating.

Klavier seemed to freeze, just for a moment, and then he was before her so suddenly that she didn't know how he'd got there so fast. She jumped back in surprise and let out cry when her legs collided painfully against his desk; he took advantage instantly, pressing into her but there was nothing sensual or provocative in his behaviour now — it was designed to intimidate and frighten. Her heart almost stopped when Klavier reached for her but then his arm sneaked around her, to the desk, and when he withdrew, his hand was holding up the article she had tried so hard to avoid.

"This is not your doing?"

Ema shook her head without even looking at it. "N-No."

Klavier straightened, looking down his nose at her. His expression was blank save for the slight raise of an eyebrow. "Then you told someone."

Ema shook her head again. "No!"

"This is most strange, Fräulein," he said in a soft voice. "Because aside from you, her and myself, there are only four other people in the world who knew. Are you accusing my best friends of betraying me?"

"_Of course not_!" She could see the look in his eye, the one that dared her to cast suspicion on Daryan but she wasn't so far fallen she would hurt Klavier by bringing up a sensitive subject when she knew Crescend wasn't responsible. Ema licked her lips nervously. "How do you know s-she didn't do it?"

"Because she knows not to cross me!" he snarled. "She would not dare do something so stupid!"

Ema was smart enough not to respond to that: she was frozen, terrified and fascinated by the look of pure fury that spilled into his features again.

"You were the first person I told!" he snapped. "Anyone else who knew only did so because they were involved or witnessed it. There was no one else, Ema!"

"Klavier—"

"You have betrayed me." He was looking at her with an expression that pierced her chest painfully. "You betrayed my trust."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was angry and I—"

"So you thought plastering my secrets across the tabloids was the way to alleviate yourself of this anger?" Klavier shot at her.

"I wasn't thinking straight!" she said in a pleading voice. "I just thought you'd told everyone—"

"_Enough!_" he roared, cutting her off midstream. "I do not want to hear your half-baked excuses!" He marched away, spinning around his desk as if he couldn't stand to be near her. "I did not expect this from you."

Ema wanted to cry. It was an odd feeling that swept through her given she wasn't really the victim here — he was the one who would be suffering. Still, there was something inside that seemed to be falling apart and even though she didn't understand it, she knew it hurt.

"I—" She stopped, almost choking on her own voice and took a deep breath, blinking rapidly against the growing warmth in her eyes. "I'll clean out my desk."

Klavier turned towards her slowly, an odd look on his face. "Clean out your desk?" he echoed. "Do you think I am going to fire you?"

"Aren't you?" she said miserably.

A soft laugh escaped him and she glanced up at him, surprised by the sound.

"Fire you?" he said, shaking his head as he hitched his thumb in his belt and sauntered over to the door. 'Fräulein, you fire someone when they smash your guitar—" Ema's heart fell to her feet and she glanced to the cabinet where a handsome guitar had once sat "—or when you fail to accord your boss the proper respect."

She didn't like the tone of his voice and when he fell against the door, one boot rising to rest on the wood while his arms crossed over his chest, Ema knew something was wrong.

"What you have done, Fräulein Detective," he carried on in that silky smooth voice, "is lump me with months of fighting off the media, who were already crazed enough with the imprisonment of my best friend and brother. They will never let this go." One hand lifted from the confine of his arms and fell to the doorknob. "Unless they find something bigger to talk about."

"W-What are you saying?"

Her eyes widened in shock (and some fear) when he suddenly locked the door.

"You are going to help me resolve this mess you created."

"How?" Ema asked, taking a step backwards. "I'm not a journalist."

"It is simple," Klavier said with a shrug. "You marry me."

Her heart stopped. She felt it give one mighty thump in a desperate attempt at breaking out of her chest and then it fell silent, as if it had used up the last trickle of energy left. The silence cloaked them thicker than before and they stared at one another, icy blue eyes meeting blank green ones with unwavering determination.

"Marry you?" she whispered.

"_Ja_," Klavier said nonchalantly. "My engagement to someone such as yourself will drive the media wild. When they get wind of this, they will forget this nonsense you brought up."

Ema was so stunned she barely noticed that he had just insulted her.

"And this way, I can also keep you from talking about anything else. After all, if I suffer, so will you." His mouth lifted at the corner, amusement evident in his face as he took in her expression. "There is no need to be horrified. It is not as though I am an unattractive man. Some even say I am the most eligible bachelor of this decade."

"Marry you?" she echoed, unable to wrap her mind around the words, the concept.

"It would not be all bad. I desire you with a burning passion—" his mouth curled and for a moment he looked like he was disgusted with himself "—and I know that you are not unaffected by me either."

"I can't marry you!" Ema announced, horrified. "I don't love you!"

The curve of his lips turned into an outright sneer. "That much is evident Fräulein. I do not wish to marry you for love either."

_Oh my God. He's serious. _

"Are you insane?" she gasped, starting to feel the first twinge of anger.

Klavier's eyes flashed dangerously. "I worked long and hard to bring back some of the honour to the Gavin name. I worked tirelessly to reinstate the good grace of my parent's legacy and in one night, you destroyed it all." He glared at her fiercely. "You got me into this predicament Fräulein and you _will_ help me out of it."

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I know what I did was wrong and I regret it! I tried to stop it from going to print when I realised how wrong I—"

"But it was only when you realised, was it not?" he cut in abruptly. "If I had indeed revealed our kiss, the kiss which _you_ initiated—"

"I was doing it because you wouldn't shut up about how—"

"You are not so stupid that you honestly believed kissing me was the only way to stop me talking!" Klavier shot at her savagely. "Face it, Ema, you did not have to kiss me at all! You did it because you are attracted to me. You just do not have the courage to admit the truth!"

She was temporarily stunned into silence by the turn of his argument but she knew it was no use trying to tell him he was wrong. Drawing herself up to her full height, Ema looked Klavier straight in the eye. "I'm sorry for what I did, I really am and I'll do whatever I can to help you. I'll even go to the media and tell them I lied," she said calmly. "But I'm not marrying you."

No emotion registered on his face. Klavier stared at her with a levelled gaze and then he nodded. "_Akzeptabel_. I will see you in court, then."

Ema felt her hands tingle. "Court?

_No… He wouldn't…_

"Court," Klavier repeated.

"What do you mean, you'll—"

But he was smiling now, a sinister look on his face. "Come Fräulein Detective," he said smoothly. "Do you think I would let you walk out of here without paying some sort of price? Every crime requires a punishment. You should know that best of all."

"You want to sue me?" she whispered, horrified.

"_Nein, _I do not want to sue you. It would be far less convenient and effective to sue you but if you will not marry me, then yes," he raised an eyebrow, "I will release you from this job before I take you to court and strip you of every single thing you possess: from that fine house to the test tubes in that satchel you like to carry around. I will clean you out. And," he added with a cold smile, leaning forward, "we both know that the prosecutor will show no mercy."

"But I said I would help you any way I could!" she protested. "I told you I'll go to the media and—"

"You think they will be interested in listening to a story that will not sell?" Klavier sneered. "Your 'help' will be of no help at all."

"Klavier, please," Ema begged. "Please don't do this. I know I was wrong but think about what you're asking me to do. You can't expect me to marry you!"

"Which is more unreasonable, Ema? I, asking you to marry me or you expecting me to forgive what you have done, to let you walk away while I deal with this mess?" Klavier pushed himself forward, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "I kept her a secret because I wished to punish her. What do you think she will do when she reads this article? What do you think my brother will say when he finds out? And he will, no matter what prison he rots in. _Verdammt_!" He raked a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "As if the theories on the relationship between Kristoph and I were not convoluted enough without a woman!"

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, truly repentant — she could see the flicker of dread in the depth of his eyes and she felt awful for being the reason behind it. "I didn't think."

"Well think about this, Ema—" Klavier settled his gaze on her again, clearly unmoved by her apology "—I am giving you a choice, which is more than you gave me: if you marry me and help me to clean up this mess, I will not leave you wanting for anything. I will not cheat. I will care for you."

Her insides tightened at the words but she was numb, frozen by the coldness of his ultimatum, and she said nothing.

"However," he continued, his eyes blazing with fire, "if you choose to say no, I will clean you out. You will not have a home or a job and your dream of one day becoming a forensic scientist will remain just that— a dream."

"You..."

Klavier paused, waiting for her to finish her sentence but Ema couldn't utter another word, made speechless by the ruthlessness of his warning.

"I will also target the journalist and the newspaper she works for," he went on emotionlessly. "I can throw so many libels at them they will not have the money to buy a sheet of plain paper, let alone run a company."

Her hands trembled. "You wouldn't."

"If you will drag my family's name through the mud, I will do the same to you. Imagine the disgrace: one sister accused of forgery and the other responsible for the loss of hundreds of jobs." An emotionless laugh escaped him. "I wonder which is worse?"

Hot and cold flashes hit her all over like tiny needles and her vision blurred. She felt dizzy and sick.

"It is your choice," he reminded her flippantly and crossing his arms again. "You can marry me and redeem yourself, watch your status rise with mine, enshrouded in wealth and success…" Ema looked up at him but his expression was empty, "…or you can deny me and lose everything, including what little goodness was left attached to your name."

Unexpectedly, she thought of her parent's home — the only memory she had left of them — in the hands of another. Her parent's clean legacy utterly and fully soiled by an immature act; at least Lana's crime had been motivated by love and fear for her sister.

Ema had done what she had out of pure stupidity and recklessness.

"One way or another, Ema," Klavier said, coming to stop before her, "I _will_ take you to court."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered inaudibly.

"I did not warn you because I never believed you would bring me to this point but I thought it was pretty clear, Fräulein," he said harshly, leaning in, "that I am _not_ a man to be crossed."

Ema looked away, biting her lip in a bid to stop herself from crying. She would not break down. She would not spill tears in front of him. When Klavier brushed past her, Ema said nothing because she did not know if she could be trusted to speak.

"You have until tonight," he announced from behind her. "At 9 I will be at your door and I will expect an answer."

Ema wasn't even surprised anymore. It had fast become clear he didn't care about anything but damage control. Without a word, she walked briskly to the door, knowing she was dismissed. She couldn't talk, couldn't _think_. She needed to get out of his office, out of his _presence _so she could clear her mind. Whatever his ultimatum was, she needed to come to terms with what she had done, to understand the gravity of the situation she had landed herself in. She needed to take responsibility before she attempted to process the situation and figure out a solution. And she _would_. She _would_ find a—

"And, Ema," his casual tone drifted after her retreating form, "do not attempt to run. You know I will find you, no matter where you go."


	10. A Decision Made

A short chapter but I wanted the focus to be on the answer everyone's been awaiting. Most of Chapter 11 is written so I'll upload that soon as well.

Thanks for the reviews guys. 100 reviews before the 10th chapter? Y'all are rockstars. Keep sending me the love!

* * *

A Decision Made

"_Ema, are you sure you're okay?"_

"_Lana, I told you, I'm fine. Stop worrying."_

"_Then why are you asking so many questions about the house? Are you having difficulties maintaining it?"_

"_No, that's not it. I just wanted to know why Mom and Dad chose it." _

"_It was a house they could imagine us all being happy in. The neighbourhood was nice and safe, away from the city..."_

"_You love this house, Lana."_

"_I do. I'd never have left it but this job was just such a great opportunity at a fresh start. It's only knowing you can look after it that gives me comfort." _

"_..."_

"_Don't you like it there, Ema?"_

"_What? Of course I do! I love this house. It's all we have left of Mom and Dad." _

"_Ema—"_

"_Please don't ask if I'm okay again."_

"_I'm sorry, it's just that you sound pretty glum and—"_

"_The finances are fine and I love living here, it's comfortable. I'm just tired. I had a long day at work today."_

"_I can imagine. I saw the headlines. I hope you didn't have to deal with the paparazzi."_

"_..."_

"_Ema, these pregnant pauses are beginning to worry me."_

"_It's nothing. I just wish Mom and Dad were still with us." _

"_They are sweetheart. They're with us in our hearts. They're with you in that house." _

"_Yeah. I know." _

"_Listen, Joshua has to work this weekend and I don't. I'll come down and we can—"_

"_I'm working. Sorry. I'll let you know when I'm free, okay Sis?"_

"_...okay, if you're sure." _

"_I have to go Lana. Going to try and get some rest. I'll talk to you soon."_

"_Look after yourself, Ema."_

"_I will."_

"_Love you, darling."_

"_Love you too, Sis."_

.'.

Ema hung up, put the phone aside and glanced around the living room, feeling a heaviness permeate her limbs. Her eyes roved over the warm colours of the walls her parents had painted, the tables they had picked, the rugs they had laid and she closed her eyes. She couldn't lose this house. She couldn't. It was saturated by their presence, trickling with their touch and echoing of their voices. They had worked hard to pay off the mortgage, to leave a safe haven for their daughters. Here, she felt warmest and safest.

As if sensing her distress, Aria crawled into Ema's lap, curling up across her legs. The detective looked down at the cat and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. She had got herself into this mess. She'd grown complacent over Klavier's leniency with her and she'd made a stupid decision. She would have to face the consequences.

Ema looked at the clock.

It was 8:51.

.'.

"_I do not recall having asked you for an opinion, Deston." _

"_I'm not going to wait around for you to ask either. Marriage is a huge step and you—"_

"_I am not a child. I am fully aware of what I am doing."_

"_You can't marry her to bury the current situation, K."_

"_Watch me."_

"_Have you gone mad?"_

"_Nein. Everything is in perfect working order."_

"_Marriage isn't a game, you idiot! It should be for more than revenge or—"_

"_I want to marry her." _

"_...what?"_

"_It is not just for revenge. I want her."_

"_Enough to spend your life with her?"_

"_Ja."_

"_So you do love her?"_

"_Do not misunderstand. The purpose of this marriage would be to resolve this... problem. It is just a happy coincidence that I also desire her."_

"_...does she want you?"_

"_Ja."_

"_You sound pretty sure of yourself."_

"_I am. She wants me. She simply won't admit it."_

"_Then I won't stop you." _

"_I know what I am doing." _

"_I hope so, K."_

.'.

Klavier hit the button on the earpiece and pulled it off, flinging it on the seat beside him. He turned off the ignition, glancing at her house.

He was furious with her. He wanted her to understand how much she'd hurt him and despite all the apologies she'd showered him with, he didn't think she got it.

Though he had at first denied the surprise, it had eventually come, rocking him. What she had done had hit him and actually hurt him. Of all people, he'd thought Ema to understand his pain and loneliness the most; after all, their pasts were so similar. He'd considered her a friend, even a kindred soul, and the fact that she didn't think of him the same way was like an ache in his chest. He needed her to understand this pain. He would _make_ her understand.

Klavier looked at the clock.

It was 8:57.

.'.

When the knock came, Ema was prepared. She walked to the front door calmly and pulled it open, unsurprised to find Klavier standing there. His expression was stony, his eyes cool with nothingness as he pierced her with a silent greeting.

"Come in," she said quietly.

He accepted her invitation without a word. Ema closed the door behind them and leaned against it, taking a moment to calm herself. Seeing him had set her heart racing with fear at the decision she'd made. However, by time he turned to face her, Ema had composed herself.

"Do you have an answer for me?"

She was glad he'd decided to cut right to the chase; who knew when cowardice would take over? "I have." Ema stared him in the eye with hardened resolve. "But first I want to say something."

Klavier was unperturbed. "The floor is yours."

"This house means everything to me," she told him. "My parents bought it."

"I am aware of that," he said.

Ema's expressionless façade crumbled momentarily. "And you'd still threaten to take it away from me?"

Klavier's mouth curled. "Ema," he said in a mocking tone, "do not act the victim. If I recall correctly — and I do because it was just this morning — it was you who attacked me. Your tantrum has cost me a lot more than my privacy."

Despite the barely concealed contempt in his voice, she pressed her lips together. It was true, she thought, looking into his unyieldingly cold face — she had been the one who started this. The past few hours alone had made her realise that even if Klavier had told someone about the kiss, she had overreacted. He'd trusted her with a secret and she had used it against him at the first opportunity. He was wrong in the way he had responded but really, she'd brought this on herself. Who could blame him for retaliating the way she, herself, had?

"My point," she continued, donning the mask again, "is that my sister and I worked really hard to keep this house after they died. So my decision has nothing to do with you. I admit that what I did was wrong but I don't care so much that I'd give this place up if I had the choice."

"A little honesty," he said with amusement. "How refreshing."

She ignored him. "I don't love you—"

"We established that the feeling — or the lack thereof — is mutual."

"—and I don't particularly like you either," she carried on as if he hadn't spoken. "I don't care if—"

"Fräulein," Klavier interrupted impatiently, his tone cool. "Save me the speech, _bitte_. I know all this already. I am here for an answer."

Ema stopped. The blond was watching her expectantly, his hands thrust in his pockets; he was standing tall and she recognised the pose though it was rare sight. It was reserved for those moments in court where the unpleasant realisation hit him that the witness he'd brought to win his case was going to turn on him.

"Will you or will you not marry me?"

For a moment — just that small moment of childishness that always came to her when she was angry — she had the urge to make a remark about this being the most unromantic proposal in the history of man, but realised the inappropriateness of such a remark. Ema squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye, her mind made up.

"Yes."

.'.

Klavier wasn't sure he'd heard right.

The fists he had clenched in his pockets slackened for a moment and his eyebrows shot up as he stared at Ema. "You will be my wife?"

He thought he saw her crossed arms tighten but her face remained impassive. "Yes, Klavier," she said as if talking to a child. "That's usually what a woman becomes when she agrees to marry a man."

The slight to his intellect flew right over his head; all of the arguments he'd gathered in his mind to convince her marrying him was the right way to go were made redundant in an instant and he cocked his head to the side, hoping the gesture would mask his surprise.

"I am pleased to hear it," he said as nonchalantly as he could. "I will make the arrangements."

"One more thing," Ema said, and he arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the suddenly uncomfortable look on her face.

"Yes?"

"I'll marry you to help you clear this mess up because I'm responsible for it," she said. "But I have two stipulations."

Klavier suppressed his curiosity. "Interesting."

"I don't want you to touch me," she said firmly. "I'll sleep in my own bed and you in yours."

Anger shot through him, piercing his ego like a steel-tipped arrow. "Fräulein," he all but sneered, "I believe you may be flattering yourself. I have no wish to-to—" he waved his hand as if he was looking for the right word "—_ravish_ you."

Ema's face flushed but she didn't look away. "My second condition," she carried on without pausing to acknowledge his insult, "is that once this is over, you divorce me."

Klavier blanched at the words. "Absolutely not."

She looked incredulous. "Why not?"

"Because it would just give the media another reason to doubt the sanity of a Gavin," he said flatly. "I will not concede to it."

"But—"

"Ema," he cut across her, his eyes flashing. "Divorce will _never_ be an option. If you try to divorce me, I will sue you anyway and the repercussions will be far greater."

She gaped at him, utterly taken aback by his fierce response. "W-Why would you—"

"If you wish to reconsider your choice, now is the time to do it."

"B-But what if we just divorced on mutual grounds?" she said desperately. "They wouldn't—"

"Yes they would. Besides," he added, his voice taking on an icy quality, "marriage is the only way I can ensure your eternal silence seeing as the only other option contradicts my very existence."

"Are you threatening me with murder?" Ema snapped.

"I am not," Klavier said, waving a hand lazily. "Do not waste our time with rhetorics, _bitte_. Now," he continued, without giving her a chance to respond, "does my no-divorce policy require you to reconsider your decision?"

Ema glared at him, knowing he was fully aware of the answer. "No."

"Good," he said, without skipping a beat. "I will make the arrangements. For tonight you may stay here."

Her face registered the shock he knew she would feel. It had occurred to him that she hadn't even thought about leaving her house but he hoped she realised there was no way he would let her remain apart from him.

"I will also make arrangements for somebody to maintain this house," he added, understanding her reaction but not giving her a chance to argue about it. "It is my belief you would not like somebody living here so it will remain untouched. All expenses will be taken care of as—"

"That's not necessary," Ema interrupted sharply. "It's _my_ home. I'll deal with the expenses."

Despite that she had just unwittingly revealed her willingness to move in with him, he stared at her, his lips tightening against the annoyance that surged through him. He knew she would try and ascertain her independence wherever she could. She would try and remind him on every opportunity that she wanted nothing to do with him, that she hated him and despised her ties to him.

He _would_ change that.

"Very well," he said, walking to the door. "I will prepare all that I can tonight and the rest can be taken care of in the next few days. And Fräulein…" he added, pulling open the door and glancing at her; she was staring at him with cold anger.

He smiled as he stepped out.

"You made the right decision."


	11. Unprepared

LOOONG chapter ahead guys. I hope it isn't just a loada shizzle. The amazing reviews I got yesterday were so amazing that I got the sudden bought of inspiration I needed to finish this off. Enjoy and please let me know what y'all think!

Klema4Ever: OMG! YOU'RE BACK! I was wondered where you'd gone! First I thought maybe aliens abducted you. Then I wondered if maybe some demon had dragged you to the deepest depths of hell. Finally, I had to resign myself to the possibility that you'd just grown bored of my stuff.  
BUT YOU'RE BACK! AND YOU NEED TO MAKE AN ACCOUNT SO I MAY HARASS YOU WITH LENGTHY, CRAZY REPLIES!  
I hope you're well. I missed your reviews - they were always such a pleasure to read. Did you catch up on Nightfall? If so, I hope you'll give me your thoughts on it. Thanks for your review on AGF. I agree with you on the dress... But we'll see what the wedding has in store for us... (even I'm not sure).  
I hope you don't disappear on us again! Stay with us this time and if you enjoy Nightfall, make sure to join the FB page! (shameless self-advertising)

Love y'all!

P.S. frazzled from all the writing and reading so I don't care if I'm being stupid and erratic.

* * *

Unprepared

It was a cold morning. The air was chilly and bit into her skin as Ema locked her front door. Her fingers, which were already cold from a lack of warm water, trembled violently and the key kept missing its mark.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and blowing on them in an effort to warm her skin but she barely felt it. With a frustrated sigh, she lowered the key once more however when she tried to focus on firmly jabbing it in the lock, her shivering retuned with vengeance.

What the hell was wrong with her? It wasn't that cold.

"Allow me."

Ema spun around to confront the British accent and found herself face to face with Seren Aded, the Gavinner's keyboardist. She blinked at him, confused by his presence (why would he be standing on her porch?) but he'd already leaned forward and plucked the key out from in between her fingers, neatly inserting it into the lock. She looked this way and that, expecting a horde of fan-girls to jump them despite the fact that the street was empty and it was just after 7:30 AM.

"Miss Skye," he said, pulling her attention back to his smiling face, "I hope you're well."

She didn't know how to respond to that; Ema had had little need to talk to him since starting to work for Klavier and she didn't know him. Although, if the media was anything to go by (her jaw clenched at THAT thought), Seren was by far the nicest of the Gavinners. He had always been referred to as a gentleman of the highest degree and she had to admit that on the few occasions she'd spoken to him, he'd been sweet.

"What are you doing here?" she asked not unkindly.

Seren's smile turned a little guilty and he nodded towards the road where his impressive car was awaiting. "I'm your escort."

Ema's eyes bugged out. "My—_what?_"

"Klavier wants me to take you to him."

Her insides suddenly burst into flames at his name and she wondered how she could have been cold less than five minutes ago. "I can get into work without an escort."

"I don't think you'll be going to work today, Miss Skye," he said with a serious look. "Klavier isn't at work either. He wants me to take you to him so you can both make preparations."

She didn't know what bothered her more: being told she was off work or that Seren knew about her marital status. For a moment she contemplated arguing against his instructions but Seren was shaking his head, apparently having guessed her intentions. "Please don't," he said gently. "Tomorrow, your engagement will be announced in every newspaper and magazine on this side of the world. You have to be ready for it."

A deluge of horror flooded her at the thought; in 24 hours she would become an international celebrity because of her newly acquired status as Gavin's bride-to-be.

Were they going to follow her around? Were they going to ask her questions? Was she going to be criticised? They would know — they would know it was a sham, that Klavier wouldn't really fall in love with someone like her…

_What the hell am I thinking?_ her internal voice screamed. _I can't deal with this! It's too much! It's too—_

"Miss Skye," Seren's voice broke into her terrified train of thought. She looked up at him, confused by the unexpectedly comforting look in his eye. "Let's go to my car. You need to get warm."

Dazed, Ema let him guide her to the green vehicle. He opened the door for her, waiting until she slid inside before slamming it shut. As if her mind knew exactly what she needed to find her courage again, her eyes sought out her house.

That was why she was doing this — she would do anything to preserve her parent's last gift.

The slam on the driver's side caught her attention and she threw a glance at Seren. She expected him to look at her weirdly: surely he was wondering what the hell was going on? Maybe he even knew what she had done to warrant the current circumstances. Did he think she was a trouble-causer? A loudmouth?

But even as she surveyed him, contemplating the thoughts that could possibly be running through his mind, Seren glanced at her, throwing a friendly smile her way. "Seat-belt?"

She silently complied, pulling it across her chest and settling back against the seat as he brought the engine to life, slowly pulling out onto the road. His fingers (which she couldn't help but notice were long and masculine) reached out to hit a few buttons and the rushing sound broke the silence just as warmth overtook the cool air.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, extending her hand towards the heater.

"It _is_ bloody freezing out there," he said conversationally.

Ema said nothing in response. What could she say really? She'd never spoken to Seren Aded outside of a professional capacity and now she was suddenly engaged to his best friend. So, as the flow of the heat filled the silence, she was thankful for the white noise. It somehow made the awkwardness of the situation more bearable.

The detective looked out of the window, watching the world flow by in a haze of colours as she moved further towards her destination. What did Klavier want to prepare exactly? She dreaded to find out. She dreaded the moment her sister learnt of the engagement… What would she say? Telling Lana about his ultimatum had crossed her mind: Ema could have transferred the deed to Lana's name. If the house wasn't Ema's, Klavier couldn't touch it.

But there were two problems.

One was that Lana would demand to know why she wanted to do such a thing. There was no doubt in her mind that Lana would fight Klavier tooth and nail if she knew what he'd threatened Ema with — she might even have won. But Klavier had made it clear he would target Lana's past in his attack and Ema knew that, even though seven years had passed, that case still haunted her sister. She had worked hard to get herself back on her feet after being released from prison, had worked hard to find some normality in her life after all those years of manipulation, lies and fear. Klavier would stab Lana in a wound still fresh and hurt her deeply.

And Ema wasn't going to let her mistake disrupt the contentment of Lana's life.

The other problem was that, even if Ema made it impossible for Klavier to take much away from her, there was still the problem of all those journalists he would hit. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he could hit them with more libels than they could handle — she was well aware of the trash they published about him and how far his patience had been tried in ignoring it — so his threat seemed far from empty. He would attack them and it would be her fault. She knew that Klavier had probably guessed she might attempt to transfer all her property to Lana and had added this threat because it would lay heavy on her conscience; she'd been the cause of enough trouble all those years ago. Try as she might, Ema could not deny the fact that she was the reason why Lana had forged the evidence she had, why Lana had fallen into the trap Gant had so carefully constructed. She'd brought more than her share of shame to the Skye name. She couldn't handle any more.

No, there was no other way around this. As much as it terrified her, she was going to have to become accustomed to the idea of being… being famous. She would have to endure the same lifestyle Klavier did.

Which was obviously his intent.

"He'll protect you, you know." Ema looked at Seren, startled out of her musings; his expression was serious. "Klavier, I mean. He'll keep the media away from you as much as he can."

"I doubt it," she muttered.

"Don't," he told her. "It's why he sent me to get you — to minimise the risk of the paparazzi harassing you. They're hounding him like crazy since yesterday's article otherwise he would have come himself. He doesn't want you to get caught up in all that right now."

Ema's face flushed with shame even as gratitude filled her. She didn't think she could have dealt with cameras and questions. Her mind couldn't even comprehend the idea that someone might be so interested they'd follow her around until they'd snapped a picture to slap on a magazine… Her eyes widened with horror. Would they follow her everywhere? Was she going to have to keep an eye out for them? Was she going to have to be careful in everything she did?

_Is… this what Klavier lived with every day?_

"I'm going to take you to Deston's place. Klavier will meet you there once he shakes the buggers off."

"Deston?" she echoed, the name adding to her panic. Another Gavinner? What the hell was Klavier trying to do to her?

_Okay. Stupid question. _

"It's the closest, out-of-town house any of us have," Seren explained in an apologetic voice. "You'll have some peace and quiet to work things out."

She decided not to point out that the phrase 'working things out' implied some measure of free will and freedom of speech.

"Do you mind if I put some music in?" he asked politely.

"As long as it's not Gavinner music," she grumbled thinking of Klavier before realising with a horrific jolt that she was insulting Seren. "Wait, I didn't mean—"

Seren was chuckling. "It's alright, Miss Skye," he reassured her. "I understand Klavier's voice is the last thing you want to listen to."

Ema looked at him in surprise. "You know?"

Seren didn't answer for a moment but then the car slowed as the traffic lights descended to their crimson warning. He turned to her and nodded. "I know."

"You must think we're insane," she muttered, looking out the window. "Me for opening my trap, I mean, and him for proposing."

Another brief pause and she saw him shake his head out of the corner of her eye. "It's not my place to judge, Miss Skye. We're his friends — we offer him our thoughts and if he doesn't listen..." He shrugged. "That's his call. He's a big boy."

"And me?" Ema said, feeling miserable.

Seren threw her a kind smile as he glanced back at the road, taking the car forward through the alternating light. "I hope you'll come to think of us as friends too." She was taken aback by the response but when she looked at him, his smile only widened. "Personally, Miss Skye," he said in a suddenly conspiratorial voice, "I think it took a lot of guts to do what you did."

She recognised his attempt at trying to make her feel better and couldn't help feeling a little grateful. She knew, even though he wasn't saying it, that he thought her actions had been wrong but by making a joke out of it, he was demonstrating his objectivity and setting her at ease.

"Call me, Ema," she said with the first hint of a smile.

.'.

It seemed Deston had made a habit of always being on the other side of any door Ema tried to enter — or so she thought until she reminded herself that this was his (very impressive) home. The stubborn detective tried not to show her awe as she walked through it, her eyes quickly scanning her surroundings, and she decided that she liked his style. For all his yellow clothes before the Gavinners' disbanding, Ema was surprised by the snow-white interior of his house (manor? mansion? _castle?_).

"Did you have breakfast?" Deston asked pleasantly.

"I'm fine," she said automatically.

"I have to leave you in his capable hands, Ema," Seren said from behind her and Ema turned to look at him, feeling her heart sink. "I have to get to work."

She didn't want to be left with another stranger-celebrity. She didn't want to be alone with Deston who, if his expression yesterday had been any sort of indication, definitely judged her. She wanted to go back to work where her scowl would shut most people up. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

"Okay, thanks," she said.

"I'll see you later," he reassured her before turning to Deston. "Better behave yourself, mate."

"Are you kidding me?" Deston laughed. "I was born well-behaved!"

Seren smiled at Ema. "He had his mum in and out of hospital throughout her pregnancy," he divulged as if this explained everything.

"Don't listen to him, Ema," Deston said in a surprisingly more genial tone than she'd heard the day before.

Their banter was interrupted, however, when Seren glanced at his beeping phone, frowning at the screen for a moment, and then shook his head. "Klavier got held up. He'll probably be another five minutes."

"Not to worry," Deston said, turning to Ema who looked at him questioningly. "We'll keep ourselves entertained, won't we _Madame Fräulein_?"

_Oh good_, she thought dryly. _Another fop of Germanic proportions._

"See you lot later," Seren said, the keys in his hand jangling as he waved at them. Nodding at her one last time, he slipped out through the door and was gone, leaving her alone with Deston Cavatin, ex-drummer of the Gavinners, DEA agent and notorious charmer.

Or was that Raoul Adagio? She knew Daryan had been the womaniser of the group but she wasn't sure who ranked next on the list…

She sighed. _I must be the only girl on the world who is having the worst time of my life here…_

"Let's go to the kitchen, Ema," Deston said, casually pressing a hand to her back and gently leading her. "You don't mind if I call you Ema, do you? Given the circumstances, calling you Miss Skye seems odd."

"Ema's fine," she said as politely as she could.

"Is she now?" he teased.

She threw him a sideways look to see if he was mocking her but there was nothing except friendly cheer in his expression.

"You look awfully wary," he remarked, his eyes twinkling. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm just tired," she said, not entirely untruthfully. "I didn't sleep too well."

Deston's expression softened. "I don't suppose you did." She frowned at him, wondering what he meant by that, but his features had already rearranged themselves in a smile. "What did you…?"

His question trailed off mid-sentence as the doorbell resounded through the house and a frown formed between his eyes and he looked over his shoulder.

"That can't be K."

Her heart skipped a beat before promptly dropping into the deepest pits of her stomach. Could it be him? Seren had said Klavier was running late; surely five minutes hadn't already passed? "Are you expecting someone?" she asked hopefully.

Deston's eyes fell to her face and he gave her a long, searching look, clearly having heard the tone of her voice. Ema suddenly felt like she was naked beneath his piercing, silver gaze but before it could become too uncomfortable, he looked away abruptly.

"No," he said, walking away towards the sound as it rung through his house again. "I'll be back in a second."

She scrutinised her surroundings in an effort to ignore the nervousness suddenly permeating her system. She didn't want to think about the fact that Klavier was probably going to walk into this very room, that he was going to look at her with those cool eyes and try and talk to her about their wedding. She didn't want to think about the fact that the glimmerous fop of a boss she'd been verbally abusing for over a year was soon going to be her husba—

Ema choked on her thoughts.

Klavier Gavin was going to be her _husband_.

One of the most famous men in the world was going to be attached to _her_ in the most intimate way — the world was going to be watching her, analysing her, speculating on their relationship and wondering how they'd got together. A sudden jolt of fear hit her: would they discover how it had happened? What would they do if they realised Klavier had blackmailed her into marriage because she's outed—

No. She was being illogical. The only other people who knew what she'd done seemed to be the Gavinners and Klavier's faith reassured her they would protect his secrets at all costs. And she hadn't told anyone. Klavier would never reveal anything to the press because he would want to protect his name. There was no way for that to get out and somehow, that made Ema feel better.

Strange. She hadn't realised just how ashamed she was of what she'd done until now, when she truly understood the kind of attention Klavier had to put up with.

"—throw them off, huh?"

Ema tensed at Deston's voice, her ears pricked for the answer even though her mind already knew who was going to respond.

"_Ja_."

Her heart sank and she turned away from the archway, as if not having to watch Klavier walk in would somehow make it easier to deal with his arrival.

"Did you get through to Akers?" Deston asked.

"_Nein_." Klavier sounded serious. "I hoped you would do that for me."

"Sure thing. I'll talk to her on the way to work."

"Are you certain she is trustworthy?"

"100%" Deston said firmly.

"Then I will leave it to you."

Their voices were closer, so close in fact that she knew he would be behind her in a matter of seconds and she would have to turn around and look him in the eye with no choice but to be content with her decision.

She had a split second to compose herself — she could hear their footsteps.

"Ema."

Her breath caught in her throat. His voice was civil but it rushed through her, setting her nerves on fire with apprehension. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and turned around to face him with as much aloofness as she could muster: his blue eyes were serious, entirely devoid of the twinkle that she'd become so accustomed to. His mouth, usually lifted at the corners in a perpetual smile, was set solemnly. It wasn't annoyed… it just wasn't smiling.

And it was weird.

"Hi," she said.

_Nice. You sound so smooth, Ema._

"I apologise for being late," he said cordially. "I was hindered."

Though he didn't point out it was her fault, Ema still blushed. "It's fine."

"I'll leave you guys to it," Deston said, turning to Klavier. "You let yourself out."

"Ja," he answered his friend but his eyes were still fixed on Ema, intensely studying her.

"I'll see you later, Ema," Deston said, saluting her with a smile as he turned away. "Have a good day."

She didn't even answer him: she was too busy forcing herself to meet Klavier's gaze head on. She needed to get used to this or else he would use her hesitance against her and there was no way she would allow him to do that.

His appearance — she would get a hold of herself by concentrating on his appearance. _Find something to criticise_, she told herself. Her eyes travelled down the coat he was wearing. It was new, long, black and sleek, meant to shield against the cold still present outside. A plum-coloured shawl fell around his neck loosely, digging into the opening of his coat and underneath it, she could see that he had favoured a white shirt. His hair (which she now wished she'd ruined) framed his face flatteringly.

Unfortunately, he looked good. She couldn't find a single, physical flaw to focus on. _Damn him._

His mouth lifted at the corner in an enigmatic smile and she knew he'd noticed her inspection. "Shall we?"

Suddenly realising she could no longer simply tell him to go to hell, Ema finally appreciated how easy she'd had it as his underling.

_The house_, she reminded herself. _You're doing this for Lana. For Mom and Dad. You're doing this to preserve your link to them. _

Klavier stepped aside and gestured to the doorway "Let's go."

Ema went.

.'.

"Why are we here?" she said in a curt voice, her eyes sweeping over the store: it was small, silent and empty but the few dresses and suits on display reeked of money. She glanced over her shoulder at Klavier who quietly shut the door and came to stand next to her.

"You are my fiancée," he said and despite the casual tone with which he said it, Ema's mouth went dry: she looked up at him at the same time he lowered his eyes to hers. "You have to dress the part."

A flush crept up her neck. How _dare_ he insinuate she didn't dress well enough? "Excuse me, I—"

"Ema," he cut her off, his gaze turning intense. "Do not argue with me in public. The world will be watching us soon. You would not want anybody to suspect this marriage, would you?"

She wanted to slap him right across his mouth but knew that he was right. Their fates were entwined — if he suffered publicly, so would she. So, when Klavier's arm slipped around her waist, she could do nothing except purse her lips and allow him to lead her to the desk because they had no idea who could be listening in this small space.

"Smile," he whispered in her ear.

"I don't have a reason to smile."

"You are about to marry one of the most eligible bachelors in the world," he said quietly and then his tone turned sarcastic. "But more than that, you are about to marry the man you _love_. You have every reason to smile, ja?"

Ema pursed her lips. She wasn't going to rise to the bait.

Klavier reached out and knocked against the wooden surface of the desk before facing her with a shrug. "At the very least, you will shock your ex-boyfriend. That should be of some comfort."

Unexpectedly, Ema's heart leapt at the reminder of Colin and even though she knew her expressionless facade was crumbling in front of Klavier, she didn't care. She hadn't even thought about him. What would Colin do when he found out? Would he care? Would he regret letting her go? Would he come and try to stop her engagement?

And then a cold flash went through her: marrying Klavier meant she was giving up Colin forever. And the realisation that she'd still been holding on to her memory of him left her dreadfully disheartened.

"Ema," Klavier said, his low voice breaking into her thoughts and it was only the warning in the sound that made her look up: his eyes were burning holes into her. "I made a promise that I would never cheat on you." He paused as if letting the promise sink in, in case she hadn't digested it the first time. "I expect the same from you."

The words hit her like knives and a fresh wave of anger overtook her, drowning out her gloom. "I'm not a cheater," she said hotly. "Don't accuse me of—"

"_Klavier!" _

The voice caught both their attentions — the woman came flying through a veiled doorway, her mature face alight with happiness and her arms outstretched towards him. Klavier instantly reacted by flashing her his million-dollar smile and pressing a kiss on her hand. "Fräulein Smith," he greeted smoothly. "How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you, darling," she sang.

_Huh. Interesting._

She was probably 20 years his senior and, to her credit, acting more like an overwhelmingly maternal figure than a desperate fangirl. Ema was so distracted by this unusual response (after all, anything with the slightest bit of oestrogen seemed to lather Klavier with sickly love) that it took her a moment to notice they were talking about her.

"This is Ema Skye," he said, winding his arm around her again. "My fiancée." She grimaced, fighting the urge to simultaneously slap him away and announce the blackmail under which she stood here. "Ema, this is Katherine Smith."

Katherine looked startled for a split second but seemed to take it in her stride. She smiled happily. "Congratu_lations_!" she exclaimed, looking between them both. "I didn't even know you were in a relationship, Klavier!"

He flashed her another grin. "I wanted to keep her to myself," he said, turning to look down at her. "Besides, Ema hates publicity. Don't you, sweetheart?"

She heard the irony in his voice but ignored it. "It's nice to meet you," she said, turning to Katherine with as much genuineness as she could muster.

"The pleasure's all mine," Katherine said warmly. "Now how can I help?"

"I am announcing our engagement to friends tonight," Klavier explained with a chuckle. Ema fought to keep from looking at him in amazement; she didn't think Katherine would miss the expression at such close friend and her ignorance might come across as suspicious. "And tomorrow the rest will find out. I want the world to see her shine."

She couldn't help herself this time: she turned to look at him sharply but he was still engaged in the conversation with Katherine and ignored her.

"I want them to see her as I do," he said with a smile. "Radiant as the moon."

Ema gaped at him, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. _What a—_

"You're such a romantic," Katherine sighed at Klavier.

Ema resisted the urge to snort, remembering the most unromantic proposal in the history of mankind.

He laughed, clearly pleased by her remark and seemingly oblivious to Ema's derision. "I try."

"Any preferences?"

Klavier smiled at Ema again. "I will leave this to you, Fräulein Smith," he said. "She will require several dresses and suits. Money, of course, is of no consequence."

"Of course," Katherine echoed, nodding. "Not a problem darling, leave her with me."

Before she could protest, Katherine had taken Ema by the arm and was dragging her to the back of the store, leaving Klavier watching after her with something akin to amusement.

_I'm going to shoot him_, Ema thought bitterly, letting the chatty woman lead her away. _He's going to pay for this._

.'.

Klavier was more than enjoying himself. Every time Katherine brought Ema out in a suit or dress, his appreciation of her body increased — if that was physically possible. At the very least, he found himself sizzling with need and desire. It didn't matter that she glared at him every time he nodded his approval; he simply got more and more comfortable with each passing moment, lounging in the chair. He knew it was frustrating her to have to endure his perusal in silence and he was relishing every twirl, every step that made her hips sway, the fabric tighten and hug the dip of her waist…

It didn't bother him that she'd demanded he keep his distance. Of course, he would never lay a finger on her against her will but there was no way she could spend a lifetime with him _without_ touching him. And she _would _be his forever. He would make sure of that.

She would be his alone.

He recalled the warning he'd given her, the requirement of loyalty he'd placed before her, and the countering fury that had flared in her eyes: perhaps she underestimated his perceptiveness but Klavier had seen the look on her face at the mention of Colin. She still had feelings for her ex-boyfriend and it ate away at him. It pierced his ego.

Everything about her pierced his ego. She had a way of battering his pride and confidence like no one had since Serena.

It made for a perfect punishment really. If he was going to have to relive his past with his ex-girlfriend, Ema could too. Klavier suspected Colin would attempt to get in contact with her once he discovered their engagement but he had no intention of letting her go. It wasn't as though anything could make him release her from their bargain now but once that marriage certificate was in his hands, Klavier fully intended on making sure it was the _only _marriage she would ever enter into.

He didn't understand it but since seeing the way her expression had crumbled at the reminder of her ex-boyfriend, Klavier's macho pride had been burning. It wasn't the reaction that bothered him (after all, he'd been stung by jealous when he'd first found out about the boy), rather it was the strength of it that took him by surprise. He didn't spend too long lingering on it though — after all, she was going to be his wife, his partner. And he did harbour some feelings for her. It was only natural that he should be irritated.

_I will make her forget Colin_, he vowed as Ema reappeared, her slender form wrapped in another dress. She looked beautiful, he realised. Even though she was glaring at him with the force of a thousand infernos, Ema was beautiful.

They would look good together.

Klavier fixed her with his gaze, letting the intensity of his thoughts seep through his eyes as they met hers. He saw the fierceness of her expression falter and he knew she'd seen the look on his face.

_I will make you forget everything._

.'.

Ema was horrified. She didn't know what was worse — the modelling she'd been forced to do for Klavier, the clothes and shoes she'd had to wear or the enormous price tag attached to them. When she tried to protest, he pierced her with a warning glance and when that didn't work, he threatened her with public display of affection.

_The fop._

So, it was with a severely displeased expression that she allowed him to hush her into a car, now clad in completely different clothes to the one she'd been wearing when she'd left her house. He seemed entirely unaffected by her sullen silence as the chauffeur pulled them out onto the road: he was busy on his phone and ignored her for several long moments.

_Probably checking out glimmerous pictures of his glimmerous self_, she thought scathingly.

However, barely a blink after the thought had crossed her mind, he raised it to his ear and Ema felt her heart sink again.

"I am on my way… _Ja_. I would appreciate that, I do not want anybody learning of the engagement until it is time… _Danke_."

"What are you up to now?" she demanded sharply as soon as Klavier hung up.

"We must pick out an engagement ring, _ja_?" he said casually.

"_What?"_

Klavier gave her an arch look. "This surprises you?" he said somewhat patronisingly. "If you do not have a ring on your finger when the world finds out tomorrow, people will ask questions."

"Why tomorrow?" Ema asked, choosing to ignore his answer. "What the hell's the—"

"The hurry?" he guessed. "The faster the engagement is announced, the faster the media will forget what you revealed," he said with a shrug. "I am simply trying to undo the damage."

Ema opened her mouth to retort but realised, in the nick of time, that she was hardly in any position to argue. Ignoring the suspicious lift of Klavier's mouth, she turned away to look out the window but she could see him out of the corner of her eye and he was still staring at her.

"Those clothes look good on you, Ema," he complimented.

Automatically, her hands tugged at the skirt now fastened around her legs, cringing at the lacy material that hung from the hem ("Be careful," Katherine had warned her. "The lace will tear easily if it gets caught on anything.")

"I still don't think I needed to wear this right now."

"You cannot shop for your engagement ring in a lab coat," Klavier explained patiently. "It would look suspicious."

"Your obsession with appearances is annoying."

He quirked an eyebrow. "This, coming from you."

"What the hell does that mean?" Ema demanded.

"You lashed out just because you thought I had ruined your image by telling someone you kissed me." He shrugged. "It sounds to me as though appearances mean something to you as well."

"Not so much with clothes," she answered hotly. "I'm not as vain as you are."

"You have never had the world watching you."

She had nothing to say to that.

_Shit._

Ema looked away again, resolving to keeping her mouth shut for the rest of her life.

"Besides," he continued, "you are a part of my life in the limelight. Until the media finds somebody else to hound, you must take care. We do not want them to publish anything unsavoury. You will learn the importance of taking care to be, ah, _vain_."

Another jolt of fear caused her to look at Klavier. He was right — she _would _have to be careful now. They would all be watching, waiting for her to trip up... The thought knocked the breath out of her. She wasn't prepared for the decision she'd made but she had no other choice.

Losing her family home was not an option.

"There is no need to worry, Ema," Klavier said in a quiet voice and she looked at him, somewhat taken aback: was that gentleness she heard in his voice? "I will protect you as much as I can. No matter what you have done, I will not subject you to that."

She wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him if he wanted to protect her, he could forget this farce. He could let her go, release her from the blackmail, the burden of his ultimatum. But all she could manage was a curt nod and Klavier, who had been watching for a response, looked out of the window.

"This marriage will not be a lie," he said in that same quiet voice. "Not from my side."

Ema said nothing.

.'.

"Welcome to Adseza Jewellers."

The man that greeted them was an elderly gentleman: his hair was white and sparse, his attire formal and expensive. He reminded Ema of a British butler, the kind who acted more like father figures and less like caretakers. He held the door open for them as he spoke and Klavier nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"_Danke_. I appreciate this."

"May I congratulate you both on your engagement," he said, smiling warmly before turning to Klavier and winking. "It's about time you stopped running around like an irresponsible child, Klavier."

Ema couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her: she liked this man already.

"This is Ema Skye," Klavier introduced with a chuckle. "Ema, this is Adalbert Schmidt. He was a great friend of my mother's and is my godfather," he explained.

"Pleased to meet you, Ema," Schmidt said, holding a hand out to her.

"Likewise," she said with a smile of her own. Really, it was the first genuine smile she'd given anyone all day but there was something about the man that made her feel comfortable. Why hadn't some of his un-glimmerous nature rubbed off on Klavier?

"I'm so glad you chose us for this occasion," Schmidt said, still addressing Ema as his expression turned grave. "I've waited for this day a long time. I was beginning to fear my godson was gay."

Startled by the frankness of his comment, Ema looked at Klavier who was already laughing. "_Kannst du nicht still sein?_"

The elderly features of the Schmidt's face crinkled with amusement. "Not really. In any case, I'm glad you proved me wrong."

Ema looked back and forth between the two, having lost track of the conversation and Klavier, who saw her confusion, shook his head. "My uncle has never quite learnt to leave his childhood behind."

"Where's the fun in that?" Schmidt said cheerfuly. "But let's get moving, I'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you. Will you just be looking at engagement rings today?"

Klavier answered without even looking at her. "I think we will be looking at wedding bands too."

Schmidt glanced at Ema, as if he'd noticed the anger she was working so hard to conceal, but if he did, he didn't show it. "Follow me."

Ema elbowed Klavier in the ribs and he let go of her instantly though she was sure it was more out of surprise than actual pain. She didn't care — the only thing she was concerned with was him keeping his arms to himself.

Klavier spoke without taking his eyes off his uncle. "It is bad form to abuse one's fiancée, Ema."

"It's bad form to touch a woman when she doesn't want you to," she hissed.

Schmidt looked at them over his shoulder. "Is everything all right?"

"Ema is furious with me," Klavier answered instantly and Ema looked at him in surprise. Surely he wasn't going to reveal the truth to Schmidt, even if he was his uncle? "I forced her to attend to some shopping with me and she is rather frustrated with me for what she considers over-expenditure."

_Hmph. _

Schmidt smiled at Ema. "Let him spend what he will," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "It's hardly as though he's lacking in money."

A burst of laughter escaped her at the unexpected remark.

"_Achtung!_ Uncle!" Klavier laughed. "You need not convince Ema. I plan on spending plenty today."

Ema threw him a look of alarm but Schmidt was laughing too. "I'm glad to hear it! Got a business to run, you know."

"Get busy then, _ja_?" Klavier commanded with a wink.

And she was struck again by the strange banter going between the two — it was clear they had a strong relationship and it threw her perception of the prosecutor off-balance. Ema had had no idea Klavier possessed anything resembling a family outside of Kristoph… but then again, it was hardly as if she'd ever thought about his family situation.

"Do you have any preferences?" Schmidt asked, looking between them both.

"Your finest," Klavier instructed firmly and the way he said it alerted Ema to the meaning but before she could intervene, Schmidt had disappeared.

"Why are you spending so much money?" she asked, whirling on Klavier.

He cocked an eyebrow at her as if the answer was so obvious he didn't know why he even had to verbalise it. "Because you are my wife."

"I'm not your wife yet," she snapped. "And I don't need all this stuff."

He didn't appear to be listening: Klavier's hand reached out to her head, taking her by surprise. Something clicked and the hair she'd swept so carefully out of the way fell around her face, the brown tresses falling into her eyes.

"What was that for?" she hissed. "Give me that—"

She was cut off when Klavier stuffed the clip into his pocket and ran his fingers through her hair, his movements slow and deliberate. She couldn't help it — she shivered at the contact.

"You look better this way," he said softly.

"I don't like having—"

Again, his attention seemed not to be on her; he pulled her towards him suddenly, disrupting her balance. His fingers moved to her jacket and she looked down at his hands in shocked and fascinated as he slipped the buttons through the slits until it was open and his hands slid around her waist.

Ema's heart caught in her throat. The material of her blouse was thin and she could feel his fingers almost as if they were on her bare skin — they burned through the material, gentle but firm in their grasp. She wanted to tell him to let go of her but she could barely breathe. His eyes were hot and needy and they were devouring her.

"I'm going to kiss you." he said huskily. "And I will not stop."

It didn't matter how much she wanted to tell him to stop — her mouth wasn't complying. It didn't matter how much she wanted to push him away — his arms had snaked all the way around her back and brought her forward.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, leaning back but still unable to tear her eyes away from his hooded ones.

Where had this sudden ardour come from?

Klavier pressed his body against hers and leaned down until his mouth was inches from hers. "We have been spotted," he whispered in return.

The words barely registered. "What?"

"There are people outside," Klavier said, still leaning further in. "And they have recognised me."

The feel of his breath on her lips combined with the realisation they were being watched sent lightning bolts through her. She jerked with shock, half turning to look through the glass walls of the boutique but he only took the moment to press his hands into her back.

"Do not look," he murmured. "Put your arms around me."

And she did. Maybe it was her detective's instincts, honed to respond as fast as possible to any given situation, or maybe it was because she was leaning so far back that she had to hold onto him to stop herself from falling over. Either way, she slid her hands up his arms and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

Klavier didn't wait. His mouth pressed softly into hers and he held it there for several seconds. Ema's entire being stiffened at the contact and she remained frozen, wondering why he wasn't moving... Was he just going to stay there?

"I know you hate me right now," he breathed into her mouth suddenly, his voice barely more than the hint of a whisper. "And I understand why." He shifted against her, heightening the proximity. "But in return, you must understand the situation you have put me in."

She couldn't answer because she would only add to the friction already present: his every word was sending shivers down her spine, the sensation pooling where his fingers were tracing the curve of her back.

"You betrayed my trust in you, Ema," he continued, never breaking the contact. "I thought you would understand me better than anyone else. Do you truly believe me not justified in my reaction? Did you not react equally harshly when you thought me guilty of the same crime?"

She didn't need to answer this time. They both knew the answer.

"I have lost my brother and one of my best friends. Would you have me lose all the dignity I have left by forcing me to face the media out there?"

_Would she? _

"Is it so bad in my arms, Ema?" he murmured and, as if to give her something to consider, he pressed his lips deeper into hers in a deliberate kiss.

Her body lurched at the contact: she gripped his shoulders tighter, inadvertently bringing him even closer.

"I am only asking you to save what is left of me," he confessed, his voice soft. "Do you not owe me this?"

Ema forced herself to see through his eyes and bit her lip at the awareness that came to her: how could she deprive him of the very thing she was giving up everything to try and save? She had done everything possible to save all she had left at the mere age of 15 — her sister. Klavier hadn't even been able to do that. After all the things that had gone wrong, spun out of his control, the one thing he had left was his success as an honest prosecutor… which he was. Who could blame him for trying to hold onto that image?

"Will you take this away from me too?"

Her mind was made up even before he'd asked and her answer came without hesitance. "No," she said quietly, pulling back and staring up into his sad eyes.

"Then understand me," he said, his voice husky. "_Be_ my wife."

She wasn't going to point out that they were standing inside a boutique, that he'd just asked the manager to bring out the most expensive rings available, because she knew the meaning behind his words extended beyond the physical appearance of marriage.

"I will," she said quietly, feeling calmer than she had in the past 24 hours. "But this doesn't change anything. I still don't love you."

"I know," he hummed.

"And you don't love me."

"No," he agreed.

Ema took a deep breath and let her mind roll the situation around in her head. Her anger at Klavier seemed to have left her and she was left with just a heavy sense of guilt. The vulnerability of his admission had hit the sensitive spot inside where the events of her past still lingered, raw and painful to the touch.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, meeting his stare head on. "I should never have done what I did. You're right. Of all people, I should have known better."

He said nothing.

"I know an apology doesn't mean much right now," she continued, smoothing down the lapels of his coat absent-mindedly. "So I'll do this. I'll marry you. I'll be the distraction. I'll help you salvage this situation. And…" She took a deep breath, understanding the repercussions of the promise she was about to make but fixed in her decision, "I'll be… be the… the wife you need."

Something flickered in his eyes and when his lips parted, she could tell her apology was accepted because the emotion was so pure, even his breath spoke of it. "Ema, I—"

"Here we are!" Schmidt's voice interrupted and they turned to look at him, startled by his sudden appearance.

There was a slight growl evident in Klavier's voice when he muttered, "He still has the worse timing."

Ema smirked.

Schmidt, however, was oblivious to the fact that he'd interrupted a moment and seemed utterly unsurprised by their embrace; he smiled widely and beckoned them closer, his hands opening and settling several boxes on the glass case.

Ema let go of Klavier instantly, glancing out of window as she did so, and found several people observing them, shocked, excited and — in the case of one girl — resentful. Before the apprehension could take hold, however, Klavier drew her forward and when she saw the expensive-looking rings lined up, she forgot all about the audience outside.

"W-What—"

"These are all platinum?" Klavier enquired, reverting to his habit of ignoring her.

"Yes," Schmidt answered and pointed at two on the far left. "Except these two. They're white gold; one is set with a 0.8 carat pink diamond. The other one is an 18-carat white gold set with a blue diamond of—"

"Hold it!" Ema interjected desperately. Both men turned to look at her, the elder surprised and the blond simply inquisitive though there was a measure of exasperation in his gaze: clearly he'd guessed what was bothering her. "I don't want something s-so fancy! I—"

Klavier laughed, squeezing her waist. "Be quiet, Ema," he advised her and didn't even wait for a response before he turned to Schmidt again. "May I see that one?"

"Are you—" Ema choked on words, unable to continue when she saw the ring Schmidt held out for her: it was a delicate band of silver mounted with a blue jewel the size of the eyeballs popping out of her sockets.

"Platinum band set with one of rarest blue diamonds that can be…" Schmidt trailed off and Ema saw him staring at Klavier inquisitively. She followed his gaze, just in time to see the prosecutor throw his uncle a warning look. "It's one of the most exquisite rings you'll find in the world," he amended.

"Hold your hand out, Ema," Klavier instructed her.

She didn't move. "How much is it worth?" she asked the manager, who looked at Klavier with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Uncle," Klavier said in a long-suffering voice. "Could you excuse us for a moment?"

"Certainly."

The man bowed and swept out of the vicinity leaving them both alone once more. Ema made to look at Klavier with a sceptical remark about money ready on her lips but he'd moved: his arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind and she let out a sound of surprise when she felt him press against her back.

She scowled. "Would you stop that?"

"I am going to enjoy being married to you," he chuckled in a low voice.

Even though she was surprised by the amusement that comment induced in her, Ema managed to make her voice sound exasperated. "That better be referring to my stubborn and confrontational behaviour because I stand by what I said." She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes finding his face so near to her own. "We're not sharing a bed."

His response was to tighten his grip on her and drop a kiss on her lips which was so unexpected but natural that Ema felt the nerves in her body crackle.

"I promise never to touch you if you do not want me to," Klavier said in a low voice.

"You're touching me now," she pointed out and despite the shakiness that overcame her, she couldn't look away from him.

His eyes twinkled. "I am."

She flushed at the implication, tuning her face to hide the emotions she knew it was betraying. The way he was looking at her told Ema he hadn't missed what her traitorous body had revealed. When she tried to pull away, he made a sound that showed his refusal to part with her and his hand travelled down her left arm, stopping to take her wrist in his hand. Ema closed her eyes as if she could block out the chemistry that was hanging on the air.

How was it that she had left her home this morning hating this man and now couldn't find it in her to push him away?

Something cool slid onto her finger and she glanced down at her hand, taken aback. Klavier lifted her wrist up before them and Ema felt the breath catch in her throat: the ring was breath-taking. The diamond was beautifully cut even at first glance, and it glittered dauntingly in the light, its shine enhanced by the smaller diamonds that shouldered it.

His tanned fingers brushed the stone. "Blue," he whispered, his breath hitting her ear so sensually that she shivered against him, "to match my eyes."

Her gut reaction was to tell him that the diamond didn't even begin to do justice to the colour of his eyes but caught herself in time. Choosing to ignore the fact that such a thought had even crossed her mind, Ema shook her head. "It's too much," she said, holding her hand as far away from herself as she could. "It's—"

"It is perfect," he cut her off, turning her towards him slightly. "You are my wife and it is because you think it is worth too much that it is perfect."

"I don't even like it," Ema lied, starting to slide it off her finger. "It's too—"

His hand enveloped hers, stopping her. "You are forgetting that I can tell when someone lies," he reminded her softly.

Ema looked down at their hands even though she couldn't see the ring. _It was too much_. There was no doubt in her mind that a ring of this quality carried a heavy, _heavy_ price tag. It was too much. What would she owe him if she started allowing this sort of behaviour? She already knew she would be fighting her body's response to his nearness. She couldn't handle the burden of his gifts too…

It was as if he guessed the direction of her thoughts, because Klavier spun her around to look at him and took her by the shoulders, an intense look on his face. "Ema," he said leaning down to catch her eye. "This is not payment for anything. I do not expect any—" he looked frustrated again, like he always did when he couldn't find the right word. "I take back what I said. I promise I will not touch you unless _you_ ask me to," he said quietly. "I can see the fear in your eyes. I know what you think of me but I am not that kind of man. I will never buy you anything with the expectation of something in return."

He was trying to cloak the hurt that was beneath those words but Ema heard it and shame coloured her cheeks. "Klavier, I—"

"You like it," he interrupted, "and I do too. I was not asking your permission. I just want you to know that I do not have any negative intentions."

"I never thought you did!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ema bit her lip — because they both knew that was a lie.

But then Klavier took her by surprise.

"Then accede to this," he said, a sad sort of smile on his face. "If you do not suspect me… say yes."

He had just chosen to let her blatant lie pass, a lie that she was certain had hurt him… and was using it to coerce her into agreement, despite his claim that he didn't need her permission. She realised as she stared up into his eyes, riveted by what she saw there, that he was desperate for something. It wasn't trust... it was a validation of his goodness — and her belief in it.

_This isn't the Klavier I've always seen._

And less than 24 hours after having been blackmailed into marriage, something inside Ema changed.


	12. The Sound Of Silence

The Sound Of Silence

.'.

They had the engagement party the same night. Really, it should — would — have been impossible to throw together something of that magnitude in under a day but then again, Ema supposed Klavier had a whole host of people at his beck and call. The fact that she loosely fit into that category made her scowl so deeply that several people from the precinct had edged away from her. Apparently no amount of make-up, jewellery or dresses (or even that it was her engagement party) would make any of them feel safe around her.

She did as Klavier had requested, mostly because she would have been lost otherwise. She allowed him to pick out the dress for the evening and made the colossal mistake of not perusing it until an hour before the guests were due to arrive; it was a backless midnight blue number that dipped dangerously low, baring more skin in one area than she ever had in her whole life put together. But that wasn't all! _Oh no_. Her leg was left utterly bare through the high slit, stopping several inches above her thigh. It was, as Ema had shouted at him, as if he wanted something to fall out.

To which Klavier's simple defence had been to point out the modest neckline, smile dazzlingly and walk off.

She couldn't insist on another dress since it was too late and she couldn't kill him as there was no conceivable scenario in which she could get away with it. Still, the satisfaction the act would bring had left her musing the possibility for a good ten minutes before Lana arrived to help her get dressed.

Ema had prepared with several stories and arguments to explain away the sudden engagement. She was certain Lana would see right through her lie but, much to her shock (and some disappointment) her sister simply asked if Ema was pregnant. When Ema (scandalised by the idea of carrying the fop's spawn) spluttered and vehemently protested in the negatory, Lana simply smiled, hugged and congratulated her.

Well. There went that. It wasn't until the disappointment of her sister's lack of questioning hit her that Ema realised that somewhere in the back of her mind, she had been hoping her sister would save her again but it seemed Lana had decided to treat Ema like the adult she was. Aside from a little chastising for not telling her she was dating Klavier, Lana said little else on the matter. By the end, Ema was decked out perfectly for the fiancée of a rock star.

She was still whimpering at the thought.

_Why_ had she let Klavier kiss her? In hindsight, she could see that his words had spun their magic on her, making her temporarily lose control of her logic but really — there had been no need to kiss him.

_Again_.

Ema vowed she would not engage in such activities again. She had spent years single – she would just treat Klavier like a living arrangement. After all, this was all to rectify the mistake she had made by betraying his trust. But that was all! She had made this perfectly clear and Klavier seemed to understand and respect her wishes since, upon delivery, her belongings had been moved to a different room from Klavier's.

She could do this. If she looked at this logically, it was _perfectly_ _doable_. Tomorrow it would all start: the media would focus on their engagement and forget the little tidbit she had fed them.

She'd just been telling herself this when Klavier announced the wedding was in two weeks — it had taken everything she had not to look shocked (since their guests, especially Lana, would have questioned why the bride looked so surprised by this news). Of course, afterwards she had confronted him about this, only for him to tell her the faster they moved with their wedding, the faster the 'unfortunate headline' would fade and the faster they could get this business over with. And Ema, recognising he was saving her from months of public scrutiny as to what she would wear and who she would invite, acceded.

Despite their impending nuptials, Ema was surprised when, winding down from the party (consisting of nearly ripping the dress in two trying to get out of it), Klavier dropped by to say good night.

"You are still up," he said by way of greeting as he let himself in.

"No. Really?" she said sarcastically, scrubbing her face with a make-up cleanser. "I hadn't noticed."

Klavier chuckled, leaning against the armrest of a chair. "I expected you to be asleep. You looked exhausted by the end of the night."

"I feel tainted," she scowled, holding up the facial wipe which was smeared with foundation. "I can't go to sleep with make-up on. Do you know how bad it is for your skin?"

"Ah, I fear I do not."

"Well it's hell! It totally suffocates it, blocks up all your pores and then makes it break-out!"

Klavier watched her rant in amusement, his arms crossed.

"I feel self-conscious enough without having the world watching me now. I don't want a damn pimple on my forehead to be on the front page of some magazine tomorrow!"

Klavier laughed. "We have people to prevent such an unfortunate mishap from occurring."

_"EVERYONE WILL BE WATCHING!"_

He pushed himself to his feet then, walking over to her and took her by the arms. "Ema," he said, looking into her face. "Breathe."

Ema stared at him, her eyes panicked and tried to focus on doing as he said.

"Now," he continued when he saw her breathing steady a little. "Do you think the celebrity world is made up of dolls? We are all human beings and I can tell you, I have seen my fair share of them up close and cosmetic-less. They are nowhere near as attractive as they look in public."

"But—"

"No but. You will learn the illusions of this world. Besides," he added tucking her hair behind her ear, "you have nothing to worry about."

"No?"

"_Nein_. I have never seen you with... ah... _pimples_ or any such acne."

"That's because I refuse make-up."

"Then we shall endeavour to apply as little as possible. It is not as if you are in any need of it."

"Thanks, I guess."

He gave her a long look, as if he was scrutinising her and just as she was getting uncomfortable with his nearness (and starting feel the dangerous anticipation of another potential kiss), Klavier stepped back, putting some distance between them. "I will let you rest. We both have work tomorrow and I believe you will need as much rest as possible."

"No kidding," she said grumpily, turning back to the dressing table, grabbing another face wipe.

"Oh, before I go, there is something I need to let you know…"

"What now?"

She heard the amusement in his voice. "My doctor has advised me against bumping my head again anytime soon. I am slightly concussed it seems." Ema's eyes flew up to his reflection, her expression horrified. "If you could please avoid throwing anymore logs at me until I am healed, I would appreciate it."

Ema turned to face him, her voice guilt-ridden. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I don't know what I was thinking… Is it serious?"

"_Nein_," he said. "But I would rather not chance a brain injury."

"Of course… I was entirely irresponsible."

Klavier paused in the doorway and glanced at her over his shoulder, his amused look surprisingly gone. "Do not linger on it. I told you as I know you have a penchant for throwing things and we will be around one another a lot more now."

Ema didn't answer, his remark only making her feel heavier. She watched him close her door without another word and she slowly sank to her seat. She had given him a concussion… _A concussion_! And he was willing to marry an abusive woman? She shook her head; he was more desperate to bury this scandal than she had realised. But then, she thought as she turned to glance at herself in the mirror and an old suspicion began to form in the pit of her stomach, this marriage also gave him an advantage – control. And though she knew he was nothing like Kristoph, the reminder that the two were brothers left her with a slight chill that stayed with her until she passed out, curled up in the alien bed she had to learn to accept was now hers.

.'.

Klavier was already awake when Ema got up an hour earlier than she needed to – she had forgotten to change her alarm the night before which would have taken into account that his place was in the city and therefore closer to work. When she emerged from her room, she found him standing over a plate of eggs, bacon, tomatoes and toast, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up. Her surprise (after all, he had pretended he didn't know the first thing about cooking) only grew when he greeted her while waving her over and pushing it her way. "Eat up."

She stared at him. "You… didn't need to make me breakfast."

"I heard your alarm," he told her, sitting down at his stool and opening up a folder he had obviously been work on. "It was no problem."

"Thank you," she said gratefully, sitting opposite him. "I'm usually in such a hurry I don't get to eat breakfast."

"I know," he said without looking up from his work.

"How do you know?"

"I suspected your penchant for Snackoos comes from your hunger as well as a desire for stress relief."

"Oh." Ema went back to her breakfast, trying not to let his comment annoy her too much. She was too tired to snap at him for being a know-it-all fop right now. She chewed her food slowly, glancing out of the window where the rain was washing away the last of the snow and she gave a small sigh of relief – she hated the frosty weather. Her car was well equipped to deal with the ice and after all the expenses of the house, she always had little money to rectify that situation.

_But now I apparently don't have to worry about that, _she thought glancing back to Klavier. _Now that my __**fiancée**__ is—_

Her toast got stuck in her throat at her own musings causing said fiancée to stop rolling his sleeves down and glance over. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said hoarsely, grabbing a glass of water and gulping. When she looked at him again, she could have sworn she'd caught him just stemming a smile as he examined his shirt, damn the fop. But before she could call him out on it, he closed his files again and stood.

"Be right back," he said shortly and left the room, his chains chinking all the way to his bedroom. She returned to her food moodily (surprisingly still able to eat despite her bad mood) and didn't look up this time when he returned (announced by the chink of chains and heavy boots) though she did notice, out of the corner of her eye, that he had changed his shirt (having gone from black to deep blue). He sat down opposite her again, reopening the files and started to make notes on one and Ema, who actually was looking at him now, noted how strange it was to see him working so hard. It had started a few weeks after the break-up of the Gavinners: Klavier had begun to pay less and less attention to his guitars and more to his work and, on several occasions, she had even seen him _organising his desk. _Of course, at the time she had put it down to some sort of impending breakdown but now, almost a year later, she couldn't deny that it had become a way of life for him. The more they worked together, the more she saw his dedication to his legal career increase. And, after all, it made sense; the band had broken up and he showed no inclination of going solo so why would he feel the need to hone his skills as he had always done?

In fact, it was more than just the shift in focus that had changed. She glanced at his hair, now cropped short, to the colour of his shirt and the white coloured jacket he had just thrown onto a stool; everything about him was changing. However, she thought with a slight scowl, his penchant for hitting on skirts had stayed as potent as ever…

…even if he had been cooler since this whole mess had begun.

_What do you expect? _She turned back down to her breakfast with a slightly more glum expression. _Would you have forgotten so easily if he __**had**__ told the whole department about your kiss? What you did was worse._

"Are you nervous?" Klavier asked and she looked up to see him watching her.

At first she opened her mouth to ask what on earth would she be nervous about before the answer crashed on her and butterflies swarmed her stomach. "Yeah," she said taking another sip of her drink. "I guess so."

"Try not to be," he told her calmly. "Everyone from the office has already had a chance to absorb the news and express their, ah, surprise."

"They have?"

"The party last night?" he reminded her, amused.

"Oh." She paused. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"And yet, it still does not comfort you," he deduced seeing the lack of amendment to her expression.

"Can you blame me?" she asked with exasperation. "You kinda—"

"Yes?" Klavier prompted when she stopped abruptly. "I kinda what?"

Ema's mind whirred in an attempt to substitute her original comment with something else. She didn't think telling him that he had suddenly thrust her in an uncomfortable situation would go over well considering her own actions. "You kinda have years of experience dealing with the spotlight," she said, relieved she had found an acceptable response. "I have none."

"I had none too once," he reminded her.

"But you prepared yourself for it," she argued. "You wanted it."

"You think I wanted the world following me around, panting like hungry dogs sniffing for a bone?"

"Duh," she said. "You went into showbiz. What else could you have possibly expected?"

"There is a difference," he said, his voice tighter now, "between _expecting_ something and _wanting_ something."

"You're telling me you didn't want the fame?"

"Of course I wanted fame," he almost snapped. "But the right kind!"

"And what," she scoffed, annoyed by the tone of his voice, "is the _right kind_?"

Klavier seemed ready to snap back when he visibly caught himself, took a deep breath and spoke in a much calmer voice. "You are well aware the Gavinners' music was based on crime and the criminal justice system, ja? We were trying to raise awareness. We were trying to let the world know we were trying to clean the streets and that we needed their support for that. Have you any idea how many fans stepped forward to help us in our investigations?"

"Oh yeah," Ema said sarcastically. "I have an idea all right… _trampling _right through our crime scenes is definitely a huge help…"

Klavier's eyes flashed with anger. "It is far more than I can say for your failed attempts at a Forensics career! Tell me, how many cases have your chemistry sets solved?"

…_Ouch._

She cast her eyes down at her plate as the bite of his words dug into her skin. There was no retort, no sharp words to stab him the same way he had her and it was perhaps this, more than anything else, that caused the wave of guilt that washed over his features.

"Ema…" His tone was full of regret. "Forgive me… that was brutal of me."

"It's fine," she said briskly, pushing away her plate. "I did insult you first."

"_Nein_," he said, shaking his head. "That was below the belt. I did not mean it."

"Yeah." She picked up her plate and went to the kitchen to clean up, still quiet. After all, what could she possibly say in response? It was true. She was a failure. She had screwed up the one thing she'd wanted to do for half her life, now reduced to play with _chemistry sets _to fulfil the hole left behind by the lost ambition. Her cheeks coloured at how ridiculous she must look to Klavier.

"Perhaps this only adds salt to the wound and I am a selfish ass for saying it but I am grateful that you did not join Forensics."

_Yeah, I bet. How else would you insult me?_

"I would not have had the pleasure to work with you," he added when she stayed silent.

"Yeah but you also wouldn't have had to deal with all of this," she said, setting the plate down in the sink and turned to look at him, interrupting before he could comment on that remark. "I'm going to get changed and head to work."

"I will drive you."

Ema didn't bother arguing with him this time and Klavier was surprised at the lack of opposition — he could never have imagined his tough little Fräulein was just too afraid of speaking in case he heard the sob she was holding back.

.'.

The two officers looked at each other nervously while Klavier tossed aside a box of files as he rummaged for the misplaced bag of evidence they had arrived to collect. It was a simple enough task especially given the good nature of the prosecutor and it had saved them a patrol they had not relished (the weather was still nasty). But, now that they saw the way he violently tossed things about and heard the vehement foreign utterances (which they could only assume were German curses), they were suddenly doubting the wisdom of their choice.

"Here," he said, flinging a bound set of files which they both fumbled to catch — and promptly dropped. Klavier's growl however, had them both moving in record time and they were soon out of the door, closing it behind them, leaving him alone once more. He kicked a bag over (not really caring what was in it or even if it belonged to him) before falling into a seat and rubbing his head to distract himself; ever since he had dropped off Ema to work, he couldn't find the concentration he needed for his case despite the pressing matter that the trial was tomorrow. He kept seeing her face, devoid of emotion. Her mouth set softly and slightly plumped and if it hadn't been for the slight shine to her eyes he'd glimpsed in the car, he would remained oblivious.

He had made her cry.

He cursed himself again, despising himself in every which way he could muster. What sort of madness had led him to treat her so cruelly? He could not deny that he had a snide trait but spite had never really been his style. There had been enough of that in Kristoph for the both of them.

He shook his head. What was it about her comment that had bothered him so much? It wasn't as if this was the first time she had shot insults at him or even made fun of him and yet never had it stung so much as it had this morning. Was it because he was still angry at her for the stunt she had pulled? No, that couldn't be it. He hadn't been angry at her for the other sarcastic remarks she had made… He had even indulged her invective just as always. He didn't feel angry at her _now _as he sat thinking about what she had done. After all, she had agreed to marry him to rectify the situation; granted, he had given her a rather harsh ultimatum but she wasn't fighting as she could be since had had asked her to help him.

And that was another thing. _What on earth had possessed him to force her into such a terrible choice?_ He could barely fathom it. He had every right to be angry (who wouldn't be?) for having his secret, one he had kept for so long, plastered across the tabloids but did it give him the right to push Ema into such an appalling position? Of course not and he knew it – but it was too late now. The announcement had been made, the world knew about it and already they were forgetting the scandal Ema had revealed earlier. If he tried to break it off now, they would both be subjected to all sorts of theories and scrutiny.

And, he told himself, this way he could protect her better. Just an hour earlier, Ema's boss had strode into the office demanding to know if their pending nuptials would interfere with their work. When he'd demanded to know if she was pregnant, implying in the process that it would explain why someone like him would want a girl like Ema. It had taken all of Klavier's patience not to punch the discourteous bastard and remain calm as he spent the entire hour trying to expel those doubts before finally making a vague threat that the chief understood very well: Ema's job was not to be trifled with or he would suffer the wrath of the prosecutor's office and even though the man nodded and assured Klavier the matter was resolved, he made a mental note to keep a closer eye on the department in case Ema did suffer the repercussions of this mess. He knew she was too stubborn and proud to ever admit it if something was wrong.

But first, he had to find a way to undo some of the hurt he had caused; sitting up, he looked around for his phone, finding it in the pocket of his jacket (which he'd thrown haphazardly over a cabinet). He leaned back in his seat while pulling up a browser to search for what he wanted and then lifted his phone to his ear, rocking as he waited for someone to answer. Just as a female voice rang out a greeting on the line, there was a knock at his door.

"_Guten morgen_," he said, slowly rising to his feet. "I require the most expensive and beautiful bouquet of flowers you have to offer."

"Of course," chimed the girl, obviously not recognising him. "Can I ask what sort of occasion you're looking at?"

"Ah," he chuckled into the line, walking over to the door when he heard another slow knock. "My fiancée had a very unpleasant morning. I wish to put a smile on her face."

"Awww, you're sweet!" she laughed. "Does she have a favourite?"

Klavier paused. Did Ema have a favourite? He had no idea. He had to remedy this for future reference; something told him this would not be the last time he'd have to apologise for something. "She likes many flowers," he said vaguely, reaching for the door handle.

"Well, our most expensive bouquet is priced $199 featuring a mix of dozen Mik—"

The rest of her description fell on deaf ears when he opened the door and found Lana standing there, an arm folded behind her back and a faint smile on her face. He snapped the phone shut without another word to the chattering girl and stepped aside, inviting her inside with a wave of his arm. "Fräulein," he murmured. "I am sorry I kept you waiting."

She accepted his invite, stepping into his office and glancing around it critically. He took in her scrutiny of his office and moved to his desk, motioning at the seat opposite his. "I did not expect you."

"I can tell," she said, slowly sliding into the chair and crossing her legs, leaning back though her shoulders and back remained straight. He watched her fold her hands over her lap and stare at him with those piercing though not unkind eyes. "I hope I didn't interrupt an important conversation."

"Nothing I cannot take care of later," he said dismissively.

"I didn't have a chance to speak with you much last night," she said, brushing down the material of her dress. "Unfortunate since we are to become family."

Klavier was no fool; he had expected the third degree from her last night and had been somewhat surprised when she had been nothing but kind and welcoming — it was obvious now that she had saved it for a more private venue. Even though her stare left most people severely uncomfortable if not downright shaking in their boots, Klavier simply leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Indeed. I am glad you are here now."

"I have to say, I can't pretend I wasn't surprised when Ema told me the news," she went on. "Up until recently, all I heard was what a fop you are."

So Ema had complained about him to Lana? "Ah," he laughed. "Believe me, I still hear it."

Lana smiled faintly. "So it is not something she has simply taken to calling you behind your back."

"_Nein, _Fräulein," he said with another laugh. "It is most certainly not a secret. We both know how outspoken Ema is about her opinions on people, ja?"

"It depends," she said. "Sometimes Ema's 'I hate you' is just her way expressing her affection without denting her pride. A rather unfortunate trait she picked up from my younger days."

_Interesting. _"Of course," he said with a wink. "Otherwise this engagement would be very questionable would it not?"

"Yes," she said simply, staring at him. "It would."

He met her gaze head on despite the obvious message in her words. He sensed she knew something wasn't right and though she wasn't about to come out and accuse anyone, he could see that she was here to set some sort of warning. Even though she had said nothing to question his character, Klavier could feel his earlier doubts about the sort of man he was becoming resurface: if she knew what he was doing to her little sister, he had no doubt she would come at him with a KA-BAR and damn the consequences – and he had no doubt that he deserved such a fate.

"I promise to look after her and do everything I can to make her happy, Fräulein," he said quietly and with all the honesty he could muster.

"I believe you," she said simply. "But can I trust that you'll succeed?"

She definitely knew something wasn't right. It was in her eyes. Had Ema said something? Did she hate him so much and had made it clear to Lana?

Or was she simply doubting him because of who his brother was?

This possibility made him grind his teeth for the smallest moment before he spoke again. "I am confident I will," he lied smoothly.

Lana regarded him closely, then looked at her nails as if she was considering her next words carefully – and when they came, it took everything he had not to lose his temper. "Is Ema pregnant?"

"_Nein_," he ground out, not doing as great a job of hiding his ire as he would like. "She is not."

She raised an eyebrow at his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"My apologies," he said though his voice remained tight. "I have had a similar implication this morning and it was not a pleasing conversation."

"The thought of a child is disagreeable to you?" she asked.

The words were out of his mouth before he could register the sly look in her eye as she posed the question: "Nein, what is _disagreeable_, and quite frankly _irksome_, is people assuming the only reason I would marry Ema is because of a child. She is a good woman and deserves more respect than such backward assumptions."

Another thoughtful silence followed in which Lana examined him and he realised he had fallen into an elegant trap: there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and she slowly pushed herself out of her chair. "I see," she said calmly. "I apologise for the question. I was just simply confused as you might imagine but perhaps it is time I realised my little sister is not so little anymore. She no longer tells me everything…"

"I am sorry," he added as smoothly as he could, rising with her. He mentally kicked himself for allowing himself to rise to the bait. "I did not mean to be rude."

"It's all right," Lana said, actually smiling at him now. "A man who defends Ema to me is exactly the sort of quality I'd want in a husband for her. I no longer doubt you'll make her happy."

He tried not to let his surprise show at the sudden change in opinion. "Leaving already?" he enquired.

"I have a meeting with Miles in ten minutes and I know he'll be waiting for me in advance."

He followed her as she went for the door, subconsciously congratulating himself on managing to appease the older sister when she suddenly stopped short of opening the door and turned to looked at him, causing him to stop just as abruptly to avoid bumping into her. "By the way," she said with twinkling eyes. "Ema's favourite flowers are lilies and white roses. She thinks red roses are a cliché."

Klavier blinked. "Ah… thank you…"

"It is surprising that you don't know your fiancée's favourite flowers but then again," she added, the amusement in her gaze growing, "I expect you simply have a hard time with flowers?"

He just continued to blink, even more taken aback by the plethora of meanings hidden in that single sentence. "Yes… Flowers have never been a speciality. I have never given a woman flowers before now."

"Unless, of course, one is to assume the article recently released about that old flame is true," she said. "Which I doubt."

Had he just been congratulating himself on fooling her? She knew more than he had realised. But if that was true, why wasn't she dragging Ema away and threatening to take him to court for blackmail and extortion or some such? Why was she, instead, helping him excuse his deplorable lack of knowledge of a woman he was supposed to be in love with and marry in two weeks?

"I'll see you soon, Klavier," she said genially, opening the door. "Take care."

He managed a nod before she slipped out and he was left staring after her, an uneasy feeling growing in his stomach born of a distrust of older siblings – especially of one who shared some alarming traits and history with his own brother.

Just what the hell was Lana Skye up to?

.'.

It was now later afternoon and several hours had passed since the older Skye's visit. Klavier hadn't seem Ema in that entire time and every time he had tried to track her down, she was either out for work or in a meeting with a witness or suspect. He had tried lingering around her desk for a while but when he saw the way the women were starting to eye him, he promptly made his exit. Now, back in his office and surrounded by his friends (to whom he had confessed his uneasiness), the young Gavin found his thoughts in disarray again.

"You know," Deston said with a small chuckle. "It _is_ possible that Miss Skye is more wise than she is untrustworthy."

"And let's face it, she forged under duress to protect her sister while your bro just threw a temper tantrum," Raoul said bluntly. "Day and night, dude."

"Ray…" Seren threw Raoul a warning look.

"_Nein_," Klavier said distractedly, waving off Seren's attempts at kindliness. "He is right. There is not even an ounce of Lana's honour in Kristoph. I am seeing deceit where there is none."

"Probably because of the deceit you're starting to feel the weight of," Ray added with a smirk.

"Would you shut up?" Seren said with some exasperation.

Again, Klavier was more stung by the truth of the words rather than his friend's bluntness. It was just what he'd been thinking of all morning and a good part of the afternoon, wasn't it? He had turned into a jerk in the span of a few days and now that the strange haze of madness was retreating he was beginning to see what he had done – for a moment, a sort of panic rose in him: was he experiencing some kind of psychotic episode? Was he exhibiting manic symptoms? He quickly shook that thought away by standing up and starting to pace around the office, ignoring the four pairs of eyes that followed his every move. No… He wasn't crazy. Kristoph was insane enough for both brothers. He refused to believe he, too, was doomed to suffer the lunacy that had destroyed Kristoph.

"You could just let Ema go," Deston suggested calmly.

"Are you stoned?" said the fourth pair, having been quiet until now. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because she deserves the chance to choose who she wants to marry," Deston said calmly, looking at the red-haired beauty beside him. "I think that's one hell of a reason for him to do it."

"And you think she doesn't want to marry him?" Raina laughed. "God, men are such _idiots_."

"Believe me," Klavier said, still pacing. "She most certainly does _not_ want to sport my ring or name."

"Or that's what she believes," Rain threw back casually.

Klavier stopped pacing to look at Deston's wife. "Explain."

"It seems pretty obvious to me." Raina shrugged. "Lana thinks Ema's in love with you and that's why she's not interfering."

A long silence followed this statement before Raoul let out a bark of a laugh just as Klavier snorted very uncharacteristically – and _very_ loudly. "Have you ever _seen _how she behaves around him?" Raoul jabbed at thumb in Klavier's direction.

"She probably substitutes me for every victim at each crime scene," Klavier said incredulously. "She wants nothing to do with me and quite frankly, after the way I have behaved, I do not blame her."

She was unperturbed by the response to her theory. "So? Des and I weren't exactly best friends when we first met."

"He didn't force you to marry him," Raoul pointed out.

"As if he could," Raina smirked.

"The point remains," Klavier interrupted. "Ema is as far from feeling any sort of affection for me as Kristoph is of redeeming himself."

Another silence followed, this one more sombre as they were all momentarily distracted by the reminder of the disturbed man they had all respected (somewhat) even if they hadn't all liked him. Raina's eyes softened as she watched Klavier slump in a seat and rolled her chair over to him, patting his arm comfortingly. "Do you want to let her go?"

"If I could… If I could release her from this charade without creating another sensation for the media, I would apologise… wish her the best…"

"But you're worried about her?"

"She would be hounded and Gott knows what stories would emerge."

"You're right," Deston said slowly. "If you let Ema go now, the media will be all over you both for a long time."

"You have feelings for her too, don't you?" Raina smiled when he simply nodded, his expression turning miserable. "The _Gelegenheit beim Schopf packen_, Klavier!"

He looked up into her eyes at the words, searching for conviction: she was grinning at him and on meeting her gaze, Raina winked. Behind her Deston was chuckling but looking at his partner lovingly; "I think Raina's got a point, K."

"Might as well take it all the way now," Seren agreed.

"Hey," Raoul said with a smirk when Klavier looked at him as if looking for approval. "Uterus knows best."

They all laughed a little at that, the mood in the room growing quite a bit lighter and Klavier looked at his friends with gratitude and a renewed sense of hope. This had started badly but it didn't mean it couldn't well. Ema _had _shown a kinship to him at times that neither could deny. And, he recalled with a wider grin, she _had _kissed him. At the very least, there was a physical attraction – he could build the rest.

They were all so caught up in their 'plan' and jokes that none of them heard the slight thump of a detective slumping against a wall right outside the office, a large bouquet of beautiful flowers in her arms and a shockwave of emotions in her wide eyes.


End file.
